


Legends: A Story of Lies

by BossTigger



Category: Big Bad Beetleborgs (TV), Gravity Falls, Kim Possible (Cartoon), Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Coming of Age, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Multi, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 73,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BossTigger/pseuds/BossTigger
Summary: Four years after Weirdmageddon, Dipper and Mabel Pines have come to Echo Creek to investigate and document Princess Star Butterfly and her magical struggles against the Forces of Evil. Ready for a long, weird school year in Southern California; a comic book shop confrontation, an abandoned mansion, and the tangled strings of fate set the stage for an adventure beyond what even Gravity Falls prepared them for.In the eternal summer of the City of Angels, legends will be written.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. The Seekers of Truth and The Traveler

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The following is a fan-written fiction, the views and opinions in this story are not intended to be viewed as those of the author. Gravity Falls, Star vs. The Forces of Evil, Kim Possible, and Big Bad Beetleborgs are property of their respective owners, creators, and publishers. Please support the official releases.
> 
> TW: This story will contain references to physical and psychological abuse, murder, and torture.

**|The Seekers of Truth|**

Over 1500 planes land per day at Los Angeles International Airport. Coming from all over the world, they range from civil prop planes flown by enthusiasts to massive two and four engine jet airliners carrying hundreds of people. On this bright and sunny Saturday morning, one plane in particular caught more than a few eyes as it lined up with the runway and began its final approach. Like the other intercontinental-range jets it was a twin-engine, wide-body aircraft, but painted a splash of wild blues, whites, and reds, with numerous WW2 and onward era aircraft flying in formation towards the nose of the plane. In white letters above the windows and over the wing, the words _The Faithful Pony’s Flying Circus_ ended with the image of a little blue pegasus dashing with a rainbow streak behind it.

Inside the terminal, two travelers were waiting for their ride out of the airport. A set of twins–a brown-haired boy and a girl–the rather tall boy wore a lumberjack’s cap, a pair of cargo pants, and orange t-shirt with a blue pine tree on the front; while his statuesque sister was wearing a large, loose violet sweater over a black top and a bright pink skirt over dark leggings. They were huddled close together, watching the screen of a tablet computer showing a youtube channel with a loading stream.

Suddenly the screen came to life, revealing the view of a fogged up camera.  
  
“Guess who?” A girl’s voice said before a finger wiped the fog, revealing the grinning face a girl about the same age as the teen twins. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, with a pair of heart-shaped marks on her fair-skinned cheeks, she was wearing a dark green dress with a red devil-horn headband and a spider-shaped necklace as accessories. “It’s me, Star!”

Star moved the laptop around and re-positioned herself to reveal she was sitting on a bathroom sink as she spoke. “I have some exciting news for you. Well, first, Marco got kidnapped, and I blew up a bunch of stuff, including my wand.”

Star moved the laptop to her left hand so she could reach into the sink. “And I was super bummed because I thought I was never gonna get to do magic again, but then i got… my new wa-!”

She stopped as she realized she’d whipped out a brush with a piece of gum stuck on it. “Oh.”

Rapidly she swapped it out for a pink and gold scepter with wings sprouted from its head. The face of the wand sported a single bright gold star that half of was completely black. “My new wand!”

Almost as an afterthought, Star added. “Oh and Marco’s okay. Say hi Marco!”

The camera’s view became a blur, before it stopped on a light brown-skinned, brown-eyed young man with a beauty mark under his right eye, wrapped in a floral-print bath towel, pulling another around his head. Seeing the camera pointed at him, he lunged towards it. “Hey-!”

The camera went dark and the stream came to a sudden end. After a few moments, the stream didn’t come back on.

Dipper Pines held the tablet out, frowning. “Wait, that’s it? A week and a half of nothing and then less than a minute of stream.”

His sister Mabel was of a different opinion. “Marco fresh out the shower was _well_ worth the wait.”

Dipper gave his sister a flat look. “Could you focus?”

Mabel snorted dismissively. “Whatever, you liked it.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Dipper looked back at the tablet. “It sounds like a lot has happened, but at least she’s still here in our world.”

Mabel grinned in excitement. “Yeah, and we’re actually gonna meet her!”

She placed her hands over her heart. “We’re going to be the best friends ever!”

“Yeah, and maybe the world won’t come to a horrifying end,” Dipper added.

Years ago, the two spent a summer with their Great Uncle in a remote, heavily forested, and off-beat town called Gravity Falls, Oregon. What would’ve been a boring summer for two kids straight out of the rich part of the Bay Area turned into supernatural, disturbing, and outright apocalyptic adventures to determine the fate of everything from pet pigs to the entire universe. It left an impression on the two that brought them to Los Angeles to spend a school year in the sprawling metropolis locked in an eternal summer.

Princess Star Butterfly, a magical girl from another world, had come to live among humans in their world–and was actively blogging her exploits in the town of Echo Creek in northern LA. Whereas most people dismissed the bright colors and magical explosions as Hollywood high technology special effects for a way overproduced web series, Dipper–well experienced with the supernatural and paranormal–realized that it wasn’t fiction.

After a lot of wrangling with their parents, and a lot of Mabel’s sheer charisma bolstering his argument, the twins were here in Los Angeles to meet Star. Dipper wanted to record the anomalous young woman to learn more about her, her magic, and her world (to make certain that she, it, and anything associated with either wasn’t a threat to reality). Mabel, being the bubbly and upbeat person she was, wanted to be best friends with the girliest girl that could beat up monsters she’d ever seen.

“On that note,” Dipper said, “Did you see her wand? There was something definitely wrong with it, why was half of it black?”

“Well, it is her new wand.” Mabel gave it an instant to think. “Oh, maybe it’s an edgy new upgrade, to reflect the dark turn of Marco getting kidnapped.”

“That’s another thing that bothered me,” Dipper said as he leaned back into his seat and watched a taxiing jumbo jet pass by. “Someone kidnapped Marco, and forced Star to blow up her wand? That doesn’t sound like the kind of monsters she’d been fighting.”

“She didn’t seem too concerned about it, she did kinda just mention that Marco was fine like it wasn’t a big thing.”

“These are just more questions to answer,” Dipper said with a determined resolve.

A flash of color caught his eye, and first he and then Mabel looked up in time to see the bright livery of _The Faithful Pony’s Flying Circus_ pass as it made its landing roll. Dipper was a little surprised by the colorful livery. “Hey, look at that.”

“Wow, that was a cute paint job!” Mabel said as she got up and looked down the runway. “Did it say what airline it was?”

“I didn’t look fast enough,” Dipper said before he heard a buzzing and reached into his pocket to pull out an old flip phone.

He opened it and looked at the message. “Grandpa Shermie is going to be here in a few minutes, let’s get to the front to meet him.”

As the two got up and began the long walk towards the front of the terminal, a black-haired woman wearing a green shirt and tight black pants also watched the plane and roll out of sight. Getting up and slipping on a thin black jacket over her shirt, she tapped an earpiece and spoke quietly.

“The plane just landed. I hope you’re in position,” she warned.

“You bet, I’m waiting at the front right now, Green Machine,” a young man with a Spanish accent answered.

The woman rolled her eyes. “I know that this is your scheme, and it’s a good one, but next time we do this? I’m choosing the codenames, _Latin Fire.”_

“Of course,” the young man assured her. “Now please, hurry up?”

With a confident, villainous smirk, the woman began heading in the same direction as the twins.

**|The Traveler|**

Pulling up to the terminal, _The Faithful Pony’s Flying Circus_ came to a stop and the terminal’s air tunnel connected the plane to the building. In spite of the size of the aircraft and the distance it traveled, only one passenger disembarked from the massive jet. A short and curvy teenaged girl with long violet hair filled with streaks of white, stepped out of the gate and into the terminal. She wore a red dress under a blue jean jacket, and a cream-colored sun hat with a red ribbon. As she stepped off, she looked back to the flight crew following her off and bowed.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me!” She said happily in German-accented English to them as she came up from her bow.

The pilot and co-pilot both tipped their hats to the young woman. “It was our privilege, Miss Darlian.”

She waved and turned to head into the terminal. “Bye bye! Take good care of my baby!”

Misao Darlian, a Swiss born girl of Japanese and German mixed descent walked with a spring in her step and a gleam in her gray-colored eyes. As she stepped onto a moving sidewalk that would take her to the front of the terminal and to her awaiting ride, she leaned against the railing and thought about what was next.

It was her last year of high school, and after grade school in Germany and both middle and high school in the south of France, she wanted to go out with a bang on her senior year: High School in the United States of America–specifically in beautiful Beverly Hills, where she would spend her days making friends, flirting shamelessly, and enjoying every summer-like day until graduation absorbing the American zeitgeist. It was going to be wonderful.

The moving walkway passed a set of tall ultra high definition television screens against the wall opposite the window. As Misao looked up at the first monitor, she saw a comic book page featuring three high tech warriors in blue, red, and green beetle-themed armor firing blasters at a horde of monsters surrounding them.

“Big Bad Beetleborg Movie in doubt,” the caption read, “Second director to take up project withdraws citing mental health-related reasons.”

Misao looked at the news report puzzled. She wasn’t too big on comic book movies, what with reality more exciting than they ever could be sometimes, but she heard that one was apparently on track to be good. Not anymore, it seemed.

On the very next screen, was a news report featuring a red-haired young woman in a midriff-baring shirt and cargo pants battling a short Scotsman armed with golf clubs. The redhead, fighting with gymnastic agility and kung fu, was making short work of the golf club swinging maniac as bystanders ran for cover on a crowded Golf Course.

The headline read: “Kim Possible defeats Duff Killigan, saves newly opened golf course from destruction.”

Misao smiled, there was someone to admire! A real hero, who did her own stunts and didn’t do it for the fame or glory. Nodding her approval, she looked to the last screen, and an advertisement displaying a sitcom starring an African American family.

“A family that takes the stage together, stays together!” The tag-line read above the smiling father, mother, adult daughter, teen son, and preteen daughter. Off to the side, an elderly pair, clearly a grandfather and grandmother, stood back to back with sassy looks on their faces. “From Our Family to Yours: the Family Sitcom starring a real family! Tonight at 8!”

The Haleys, America’s most popular family this side of an animation studio. To the surprise of Misao and her family, when she applied for the exchange program in the US, they were the first people to offer their home to her. Without a second thought in turn, Misao jumped at the chance to live with them and rub elbows with Hollywood elite.

”I’ve never actually watched it,” she mused to herself as she looked in particular at the suave styled teen son in the picture. He was a handsome young man with a mohawk haircut and a diamond pattern cut into the much shorter hair surrounding the strip. “I should start, though.”

Giggling to herself, she looked ahead and wondered who she’d run into on her way out to her new home in the hills. This was the home of big Hollywood movies, after all, she was likely to see at least one or two famous people just here at the airport terminal.

As she stepped off the moving walkway and made a right, Dipper and Mabel were making a left, and their paths merged.

“I hope Waddles will be okay taking the long way here,” Mabel said to her brother as they walked alongside the girl.

Dipper sighed. “I still can’t believe you insisted he come with you.”  
  
“He’d be crawling up the walls back home without me,” Mabel said.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure about Grandpa…” Dipper said with a slightly foreboding tone.

Mabel was insistent on the brighter side. “If Grunkle Stan was able to fight dinosaurs for him, then Sherpa won’t be bothered; no one can say no to a face like Waddles!”

Having heard Mabel mention Waddles, Misao looked up at the tall girl and her brother, and her eyes widened in recognition. With a bit of a bounce in her step, she looked at Mabel’s face and gasped. “Excuse me?”

Hearing German-tipped English, Mabel looked down at the small and curvy girl walking beside them. She lit up in a brilliant smile. “Hello! What can I do for you?”

“Are you… Mabel?” Misao asked. “The girl from YouTube with the guide to life?”

Dipper looked at Misao, and stared blankly for a moment at her. “Um…”

Mabel gasped. “Oh my gosh, yes! I’m Mabel, and I do have a guide to life on YouTube!”

Misao clapped her hands together, she hadn’t even left the airport! “I love your series, it’s so cute and funny!”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. Cute and funny wasn’t something he’d call his sister’s YouTube channel. Mabel shot for cute when she worked the camera, but it came off as weird, surreal, disturbing enough get her channel threatened with deletion twice, and once got them a visit from concerned Piedmont PD.

“You really like it?” Mabel asked.

“Ja, my friends and I love it so much!”

Right, she was German, now it made sense to Dipper.

“Well, it is always nice to meet a fan,” Mabel humblebragged, before she extended her hand. “And who would you be?”

Misao took hers and shook it. “I’m Misao, just a humble exchange student spending her last year of high school in America.”

“Shut up!” Mabel gasped. “Is this your first time here?”  
  
“My first time on my own, and definitely here in LA,” Misao revealed.  
  
“SHUT UP!” Mabel said even louder. “Oh my gosh, you’re going to love it! Los Angeles is the most exciting town in the entire world! I mean, I’ve only been here to see my Sherpa every couple of Chanukkuhs, but it is so amazing.”

Dipper smiled; there went Mabel, making easy conversation with a total stranger. It was always a sight to see and enjoy, moreso when the stranger returned the enthusiasm and didn’t attempt to awkwardly withdraw.

“I have a whole bucket list of places I want to go to,” Misao said as she held up her phone.

“Oh, oh! Me too!” Mabel pulled out her own device.

“Shut up!” Misao gasped, grinning. “Compare notes?”  
  
“Hehe, yeah!”

Not even out of the terminal and she already made a friend. Dipper had a good feeling about this trip already. Or he did until he looked ahead of them and had his own moment of recognition–though the shock wasn’t a good one.

“Rodeo Drive?” Misao asked.

“I saved up _so_ much money for it,” Mabel replied. “Venice Beach?”  
  
“Ja, ja!” Misao confirmed. “Chinese theater?”

“Duh. How about Randyland?”  
  
Misao stopped, her excitement becoming confusion. “… What is Randyland?”

That sounded a little dirty.

Mabel stared at Misao, like the girl had never heard of air or water. “Oh. _My gosh._ Add it to your list, or you will be sad forever.”

“Very well!” Misao said before giving her a knowing look. “I bet I know what’s next on your list.”

“Oh come on, you don’t come to Los Angeles without even thinking of going there. We’ll say it together, okay?”

“Okay,” Misao agreed. “Ein, zwei, drei-!”

“Disneyland!” They shouted together, before laughing.

“Uh, hey, Misao?” Dipper asked as they passed through the security checkpoint and headed for the arrivals pick up lane.

Misao looked over at him, halfway through adding “Randyland?” to her bucket list. “Hm? What is it?”

“Your ride’s waiting for you, right?” He asked as he slowed his pace, and both Mabel and Misao followed suit.

“Hm, my host family were sending a driver, yes,” Misao confirmed. Looking ahead, she saw a handsome, broad shouldered young man holding a sign with her name on it. “Ohh… I hope that’s him.”

“I don’t think it is,” Dipper said, “Don’t make eye contact, because I’m pretty sure that’s Señor Senior Junior.”  
  
Misao performed a discrete doubletake with disbelief. “Wait– _the supervillain?”_

Mabel looked ahead at the chauffeur's face, and a blush broke out across hers. “Oh man, I’d let him kidnap me anyday.”

For the life of him, Dipper couldn’t even imagine why the son of a world renowned thief and general menace was here trying to pick up a random German girl. He was, however, thankful that his preoccupation with the strange and unknown made it easy to spot him. “Just keep walking, pretend you don’t see him.”  
  
“Mmhm, I know what to do in these situations,” Misao assured Dipper, though she was a little impressed with his decisive manner.

“Mabel? Look behind us, are we being followed?”  
  
The three pointedly walked past the chauffeur, who was waving the sign towards Misao with growing insistence until they passed him, leaving him perplexed in their wake. Glancing over her shoulder opposite of the chauffeur, Mabel sure enough saw the black-haired woman in green and black walking towards them–her eyes hidden behind a pair of visor sunglasses. She looked forward, a little pale.

“… Dipper, I think that’s _Shego,”_ she whispered.

A cold sweat seeped from Dipper as they reached the doors. “Okay, okay… this is bad.”

Misao couldn’t agree more; Shego–the legendary henchwoman of some of the biggest names in supervillainy–being after her was more than cause for alarm.

She went to her phone. “I’m calling for help-”  
  
“Don’t,” Dipper cut her off. “They don’t want to make a scene, so neither will we. Just be calm, pretend like nothing is happening, and we’ll get into our grandfather’s car and leave.”

Once more she looked at Dipper in surprise; it seemed like both he and his sister had their heads on their shoulders, like they were ready for this sort of thing.

“Excuse me! Wait, Miss Darlian!” They heard the chauffeur call after her with an obvious Spanish accent and whiny inflection that implied a distinct passiveness. “I am your chauffeur? To be bringing you to your host family…?”

Dipper didn’t look back, and none of them had to. As they all expected, the woman in green and black saw her target walk past her accomplice, and was picking up her pace to catch them. Passing through the doors, they right away saw a stretch limousine conveniently parked out in front of them, waiting for Misao.

Looking right and then left–and taking a quick moment to confirm the woman now all but sprinting for the door–Dipper was overcome with relief when he saw an elderly man start to get out of a white, 90s-era SUV parked just behind the limo. “There!”

He quickly took Misao’s hand, pulling her after him as he and Mabel hurried.

**@@@@@**

In spite of being in his advanced age, Sherman “Shermie” Pines could boast he was sharper and quicker than most men half it. Tough and strong from being raised in 1940s New Jersey and spending the better part of his life in Israel, even in his retirement he kept himself well honed and alert in both body and mind. He’d fought wars, rescued hostages, and once punched an Illinois Nazi–the stuff of adventurers and heroes one could say, and he did it with a strong, straight-forward attitude. However hard he was, though, that always went out the window when it came to his Grandkids.

Dipper and Mabel, from the day they were born he adored them, and he’d happily do anything for them–all they had to do was ask. So when, out of the blue, they called to ask if they could spend a school year with him in Los Angeles? He didn’t even bother with why, he demanded _when_ they were going to show up so he could see how they’ve grown since he last saw them.

Seeing them hurry out of the terminal doors, and then dash straight for his SUV, he was quite pleased to see that they were growing up tall and healthy like he and his little brothers did in their youth. They also didn’t seem to hate each other, like he and his little brothers did either. He grew concerned, however, when he saw them running towards the car like they were being chased, with Dipper nearly dragging a young woman behind him.

He opened the door and set one foot out. Like his younger brothers Stanford and Stanley, he was a tall and burly man, but even more than the once long-lost former he kept himself in a physical condition that the once shamed and forsaken latter needed a girdle to give the appearance of. Whereas his younger brothers were various shades of gray, his hair was a complete white and had gone that way when theirs was still a rich brown. As customary when meeting his grandkids, he was wearing a nice shirt and pants, with a funny bowtie that he knew his granddaughter would love.

“Grandpa Shermie!” Dipper said as he hurried to the passenger side of the SUV and opened the back door. “We need to go!”

“Dipper, Mabel, what’s the hurry?”  
  
“No time!” Mabel said as she ushered Misao into the backseat and climbed in herself. “We gotta go, a hot scary lady’s after us! I love your tie!”

Dipper scrambled into the SUV and ducked down, and Shermie looked down at him. “ Oy gevalt, you're just getting into LA and you already got a _shiksa_ tailing you?”

He looked back at the terminal doors as the woman following them stormed out of the doors and began looking around for any sign of her quarry. Shermie’s expression hardened and he pulled himself back inside of the car. “On second thought… probably not your type.”

“Definitely not,” Dipper said as he, Mabel, and Misao stayed low.

Throwing the car into drive, Shermie pulled from the pick up zone and drove away from the terminal–making sure to look nowhere near the woman’s direction as he departed. He made sure to quickly pull in front of another car in the lane adjacent, putting it between her and the view of his license plate before she could look after them.

As the Pines and their unexpected new friend fled, the woman did a double-take at the speeding SUV and frowned. “Shoot, was that them?”

The chauffeur spilled out of the terminal and looked in the direction she went. Removing his fancy billet, the young man known as Señor Senior Junior heaved a defeated sigh. “What just happened? Did they see through our disguises?”

The legendary henchwoman herself, Shego, pulled off her visor and scowled. “There’s no way they didn’t notice us. One of them must’ve recognized you… which I’m not even sure how.”  
  
Junior suddenly looked nervous, and Shego turned to look at him. “What am I thinking, of course one of them did. You probably posted pics of yourself on Instagram before we came out here, didn’t you?”  
  
“No! I’ll have you know, father had me banned from Instagram and most social media,” Junior said proudly.

Shego stopped, impressed by the prudence. “Oh… then why the nervous look?”

“I still have a Linkedin I use to post headshots…?” Junior admitted sheepishly.  
  
Shego palmed her face and heaved an annoyed groan. _“Of course.”_

Dragging her hand down her face, she sighed and put on her visor again. “Okay then, Junior, the ball’s back in your court. How’re we gonna get this girl?”  
  
“There’s still a chance,” Junior said. “After all, a good villain has a good contingency, right?”

Shego smiled and lightly punched his shoulder. “Just like I taught you. So, what’s the plan?”

“We wait; maybe hit a few small time burglaries of jewelry stores on Rodeo to keep us from getting bored, and keep an eye on the internet. A girl like her? She can’t stay away from it for long.”

Shego’s smile grew devious. “It is _always_ a breath of fresh air working with you, SSJ.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Legends: A Story of Lies! This is a story I've spent the last... three or so months writing before I even considered myself confident enough to post a preview of it! I hope you enjoy it and-
> 
> Mabel: "I hope you leave comments, I love comments! I love attention!"
> 
> Dipper: "Yeah, we'll be down here ready to answer any questions as they come along, so... don't be afraid to ask them."
> 
> Mabel: "It won't just be us, either! As the story goes, others will be along to do stuff!"
> 
> Misao: "As long as that stuff includes not turning me over to Shego, I'm fine with this!"


	2. Welcome to Echo Creek

**|Welcome to Echo Creek|**

It wasn’t until they got out of LAX and onto the highway that Dipper, Mabel, and Misao finally stopped cowering in their seats and got their seatbelts on. Leaning back in his seat, the five minutes younger Pine twin checked the mirrors and looked out the back of the SUV. No one was chasing after them throwing green bolts of energy, so it looked like they were safe for now.

“What are the odds, right?” He asked aloud with a nervous but relieved laugh.

“Worse than you might think,” Misao muttered as she cast a look out the back of the SUV.

“@KimPossible you might want to get to LA, we definitely saw Shego and her hunky sidekick Señor Senior Junior, and they’re trying to kidnap people,” Mabel announced into her phone.  
  
Dipper looked at Mabel, alarmed. “Don’t you dare tweet that!”

“I wasn’t gonna!” Mabel had it scheduled to go in an hour.

“Shego, isn’t she the one that causes nonsense with that blue idiot?” Shermie asked. “Doesn’t that nice girl and her goofy boyfriend fight her?”

“Yeah, they were trying to kidnap our new friend,” Mabel said.

Misao looked to Mabel and Dipper. “Honestly, I don’t think I can thank you enough for the risk you took for my sake. That was so frightening.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Dipper said.

“Yeah, we’re glad we got you out of there,” Mabel reassured her.

Shermie glanced at his grandson and back at his granddaughter with an approving smile. What a way to start the trip, he couldn’t be more proud of them.

“You’ll have to forgive these two for being selflessly heroic, I don’t know where they got it from,” Shermie said jokingly to his new guest. “I’m Sherman Pines, their grandfather, but call me Shermie.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Misao said as she leaned into Mabel. “Wherever they get it from, I’m glad they got a lot of it.”

She hung her head. “I can’t believe how sneaky that was; I would’ve gotten into that car without a second thought.”

And she’d probably be well on her way to being ransomed by the end of the day. Her mother would not like that one bit.

On that note, she pulled out her phone again. “I should call my mother, and my host family.”

“Why were they after you?” Dipper asked.

Misao began writing a text. “Plenty of reasons. My family runs a company that specializes in the kind of things people like _them_ want, and I’m the most kidnap-able girl in the world.”  
  
Mabel agreed. “Yeah, anybody could just pick you up under their arm and run, you’re so small and cute. I mean, I was thinkin’ about doing it myself!”

“Aw!” Misao cooed at Mabel’s compliment.

“That’s basically what we did,” Dipper pointed out, and Misao giggled.

She looked down at her phone. “I suppose I should also call the police as well.”

Shermie flatly rejected the notion. “Leave it to the LAPD to protect someone? Hogwash, you’re safer in this truck than in the back of any precinct in this town.”

“Yeah, probably,” Dipper said.

“Uh huh,” Mabel agreed.

“Are you sure?” Misao asked.

“Our experience with police has been… they’re not very helpful for things that get _weird,”_ Dipper explained.

“Yeah, and we live in _Piedmont,”_ Mabel said.

“No one trusts the cops in this town,” Shermie added. “You’ll learn to do the same, quick.”

Misao looked between all of them, and found their unified distrust of authority oddly comforting. She looked at her unsent message to her mother, intending to alert her of the threat to her safety. “Well, I can’t stay here with you… it’d put you in more danger.”  
  
Shermie waved it off. “Don’t you worry, I know a few tricks about staying out of sight and losing tails–they won’t find us. You contact your family and let them know you’re safe, and we’ll get you to where you need to be by the end of the day.”

“Believe it or not,” Dipper said, “But we’ve been through stuff like this before. Maybe not in the same league as supervillains, but we’re used to it.”  
  
Mabel laughed. “Yeah, Dipper’s a crazy prepared for weird stuff, and Sherpa used to fight Nazis.”

“It was one Nazi, an Illinois Nazi!” Shermie clarified.

“You still kicked his butt,” Dipper noted.

Shermie pumped his fist. “You’re dang right, I did!”

“And I’m the heart and soul of this team that keeps everyone together! Don’t you worry about us or any bad guys that might be after you.”

Staring at her phone, Misao nodded and tapped the bottom of the phone’s screen with her thumb. “I doubt my Host family would be too thrilled at me bringing someone like Shego anywhere near their home, either.”

“Where were you headed, if you don’t mind my asking–Miss?” Shermie asked.

“Beverly Hills.”  
  
“Ooh, nice,” Mabel said.

“Well, Echo Creek isn’t nearly as posh and gaudy, but it’s got a nice character all its own,” Shermie assured her. “It’s just as LA as the rest of it.”

“And Randyland’s there,” Mabel said.

Misao unlocked her phone. “Okay, you’re going to have to tell me what Randyland is, because I’m afraid to search it on my phone.”

This was a good idea, Mabel agreed. “Yeah, the kind of ads I started getting changed a bit after I searched for it.”

Her and her mother had the _second_ most uncomfortable talk of her life after that.

“And that’s why I don’t use the internet ever,” Dipper muttered.  
  
“Good man,” Shermie whispered aside to him. “I’m glad you could learn _something_ from the Stans.”

With it being the latter quarter of the morning and the weekend, the legendary LA traffic wasn’t nearly as ferocious. It barely took an hour for Shermie to drive them from the dense city core to the relatively open suburban streets of Echo Creek, a town north of Route 5 and the LA River. Leaving the highway, he eased off the gas and let his passengers have a look around.

Right away, Dipper noticed that there didn’t seem to be anything outwardly unusual or strange. Actually, the town seemed kind of kitschy and off-beat, but experience told him to never _ever_ take things at their face. Once they were set up, he’d get to work confirming if anything was wrong because of Star's activities.

Mabel’s perspective offered up something entirely different: the first thing she noticed was that a lot of the boys in the neighborhood were hot. The shops they passed on the main road through the town looked really cute, and everything had this cool, Indie-rock hipster vibe she could practically hear in the air.

Misao was captivated as she watched the almost night and day difference between the twins’ expressions. Dipper had all the focus of a hunter, or a detective, while Mabel was clearly making a mental list of all the fun things she was going to do the moment she got out of the car. She looked towards the driver’s seat, and wondered what kind of man Shermie was in this situation.

“Anyway, while we’re out here, I need to pick up my pull list from the comic book shop,” he announced.

Misao hummed. There it was.  
  
Dipper looked over. “Pull what, now?”  
  
Mabel leaned over his shoulder. “You read comics, Sherpa?”

“Of course!” Shermie replied. “I’ve been reading ‘em since your great grandpa gave me a copy of Action Comics #1…”

His expression darkened. “That Stan and Sixer destroyed by coloring in it.”

In their defense, they were both three, and he’d made the mistake of leaving it within their reach.

As Shermie pulled up to a stoplight, he continued. “Anyway, it’s something I do in my spare time and it gives me something to leave to you when I finally keel over.”

“Psh, yeah, like that’s going to happen anytime soon,” Mabel said with a clear undertone of _talking about mortality sucks._

Getting the memo, Shermie continued. “We’ll swing by the comic book shop near the house, and I’ll show you how to make your own list of stuff you want to read.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t read comics, though,” Mabel pointed out.

“You read manga all the time,” Dipper said,

“Yes, that’s _manga,”_ Mabel said. “There’s a difference.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. Get trapped in one comic book and suddenly you’re an expert.

“Manga is all right; but I can’t see the attraction in reading about guys who look almost as pretty as Mabel, here…” Shermie trailed off when a motorcycle came up alongside them.

It was a big, heavy chopper, the motor loud even as it idled. In stark comparison to its size, an old African American woman wearing a helmet and black leather jacket over a pink sweatsuit rode atop it–giving Shermie a challenging look.

Dipper looked at the strange old woman on her bike, and paled. _“Oh no.”_  
  
Misao looked at Dipper, and back at the old lady. “Wait, what’s happening?”  
  
“Looks like an alte cocker wants a reminder of who the fastest driver is,” Shermie said with a smirk as he revved the truck’s engine.

Hearing the reply, the old woman pointed at Shermie, at herself, then down the road–which Misao realized was effectively one long straight with no lights or side streets for over a quarter mile.

“Grandpa, no!” Dipper pleaded.

“Sherpa, _yes!”_ Mabel cheered.

Misao leaned back in her seat, and tightened her seatbelt. She did not expect to be nearly kidnapped, and she certainly did not expect her near kidnapping to put her in a car full of the oddest people… who were about to engage in a street race with an eccentric old lady. However, upon reviewing it comparing it to how possibly expected, safe, and civil the alternative was?  
  
“MACH SCHNELL!” Misao shouted excitedly.

“Yeah!” Mabel cheered with her.

The light turned green. In the moment it switched, Dipper just took a deep breath and grabbed the dashboard in front and the frame of the door to brace himself.

And with a roar of engines at a combined 800 horsepower, they were off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Echo Creek, the second most magical place on the whole west coast (Disneyland is third).


	3. The Heroes

**|The Heroes|**

The Good Princess Heather was in grave danger! Captured by the Brutal Barony of the Magnavore Army: The despicable cyborg Trip von Vanderhoff, and his big brainless brother, Van von Vanderhoff! Tied to a tree in a dark forest’s clearing, and surrounded by the brown and black-suited Scab androids at Trip’s vile command, the beauteous princess struggled against the filthy chains holding her in vain as she scowled at the two villains!

“You will never get away with this,” she declared defiantly her blonde hair tossing to and fro as she shook her head. “My father the King will send aid!”

Adorned in a white lab coat over gold and black armor from chin to toe, the bespectacled Trip von Vanderhoff turned to face the princess with a brutal, confident sneer, and ran a black gauntlet covered hand through his blue and green-tipped blonde hair.

“Oh Princess, all that struggling is going to mess your lovely hair and dress,” he said with a voice dripping arrogance. “You are right, though the King will send aid, and soon we will have not only you, but our true prize!”

The Princess gasped. “What?!”

Holding aloft a wicked bastard sword of the coldest metal, Van von Vanderhoff pointed its tip into the sky. “Your hero will come, and we will slay him once and for all! Then the kingdom will be plunged into darkness!”

Trip von Vanderhoff held out his arms. “I, Trip von Vanderhoff will rule this Kingdom forever as a mechanical empire, and you shall be my cyborg queen! All that is good and light will be choked in the dark smoke of industry’s fire!”

The Princess’s eyes widened, horrified by the diabolical plot. “… N-no!”

Trip von Vanderhoff turned away from the Princess, and called to the forest beyond. “So come, hero! Walk straight into the uncaring jaws of destiny, to your doom!”

“All you had to do was ask.”

Not expecting the reply, Trip von Vanderhoff recoiled, electricity jumping across his gauntlets. “What?!”

Van von Vanderhoff was also surprised, taking his sword in both hands and assuming a low stance. “Already?!”

The Princess’s green eyes lit up with relief, but it was quickly replaced with dread. “Oh no!”

A young man, barely fifteen, with dirty blonde-hair and clear blue-eyes emerged from the forest, wearing oddly just a blue-striped shirt, jean shorts, and sneakers. In his hand he held a blue-cased smartphone and on his face he carried a cocky grin.

“You had this big plan all for me and you’re surprised that I’d just walk in?” The young man asked as he stopped in the center of the clearing.

“Please be careful!!” Princess Heather cried.

Trip von Vanderhoff’s panicked expression morphed back to his sneer. “Actually? Yes! Welcome to your doom, Drew Beet!”

The heroic warrior Drew Beet laughed and folded his arms, casually tapping the phone against his side. “This isn’t it, is it? What, nine? Ten Scabs and _you two?_ Come on, Barons, I get that you’ve been having some bad days since I showed up–but this is hardly an inconveniencing, let alone a full on doom.”

“We’ll see about that!” Trip von Vanderhoff roared as electricity crackled over his hands. “Scabs! Destroy Drew Beet!”

Casting hesitant looks to each other at first, the overwhelming rule of their master compelled them forth. With bladed weapons that glowed orange along their edges to sear through metal and flesh alike, they leaped into battle with grim intent.

All brave Drew Beet had to meet them was his smartphone, which he raised in front with the screen out. “Beetle Blast!”

The screen flashed to life, the image of a metallic blue Rhinoceros Beetle appeared before leaping off the screen. Expanding to a size larger than Drew Beet, the metallic Rhinoceros Beetle passed over him and vanished in a flash–leaving him adorned in cybernetic blue armor with black and gunmetal gray plates and circuitry beneath and on the inner areas of his armor. Upon his head, his face-covering helmet in the shape of the Rhinoceros Beetle flashed its red visor like eyes, and the Blue Stingerborg had arrived!

“Oh no, he transformed!” Van von Vanderhoff shouted in dismay.

Trip von Vanderhoff slapped his brother upside his whale-shape helmeted head. “That was the whole point, doofus!”

“Right!” Van von Vanderhoff reaffirmed before looking over with his brother to see that the scabs had only just reached Drew Beet–who quickly drew a black and silver pistol from the holster on his right leg.

“Take this!” He called out as he fired off bursts of brilliant yellow lasers from his pistol, hitting and destroying each Scab before they could get within three steps of him. Sparks, smoke, and bits of metal flew as the sinister cyborgs were swiftly slain.

Trip von Vanderhoff was livid; he whirled around and slapped his brother, shoving him forward. “Rrr… get him you oaf!”

Yelling angrily, Van von Vanderhoff leaped towards Drew Beet, his hulking body skimming the ground and broad green cape billowing behind him.

“I’m going to cut you down to size, nerd!” Van von Vanderhoff yelled, taking the sword into one hand.

The Blue Stingerborg met this threat with a laugh. “Hey Van, did you get bigger?”

With a mighty swing, Van von Vanderhoff missed by an embarrassing margin, and found his arm caught and locked by Drew Beet.

“Hey, let go-ohhh!” Van von Vanderhoff let out a wail as Drew Beet swung him around faster than he attacked him, and threw him into the ground. An explosion of dirt and rocks followed, leaving Van von Vanderhoff’s feet sticking from the bottom of the crater his body made, kicking helplessly at the sky.

“‘Cause this is the hardest you’ve fallen yet!” Drew Beet mocked.

He turned to face Trip von Vanderhoff, and pointed his trusted Input Magnum at the villain. “It’s over Vanderdork.”

In spite of the ease that Drew Beet defeated his minions and brother, Trip von Vanderhoff’s lips split into a sickening grin. As electricity crackled up and down his arms, he held them out inviting Drew Beat to shoot him. “It’s only just started, Drew Beet!”

From around the tree Princess Heather was bound to, a barrage of six missiles shrieked towards Drew Beat, their tail-like trails of smoke lashing the air as they converged on their target and caught him in a huge explosion. The blast pressed Princess Heather against the tree, even as Trip von Vanderhoff used his body and spread open lab coat to shield her from the worst of it.

“Drew Beet!” Princess Heather cried in despair, before heavy, metallic foot falls drew her attention to her right.

Her despair turned to horror at the sight of a powerful, heavily armored humanoid robot that towered over even Van von Vanderhoff. Painted army green, with splashes of red and black, it had a blank, vented face with two yellow eyes that flashed brightly in the lingering smoke caused by its attack. On its left shoulder, smoke wisped from the six-tube missile launcher on its, while the two tube launcher on the right flexed and targeted the center of the smoke.

Trip von Vanderhoff’s laughter quickly rose above the sudden silence of the forest. “Behold my most powerful warrior to date, Princess! The Mean Green Cannon Machine… Death Launcher!”

He turned to face her, as she beheld the awful weapons on its shoulders and down its arms. “With a single salvo of its weapons, it’s enough to destroy armies, and as you saw… it was more than a match for Drew Beet!”

“Drew Beet…” Heather said in a tone soft with grief.

He had done it, in a single blow he’d defeated the Blue Stingerborg! Now nothing stood in his way to claim his throne, and let his vile laugh ring across the kingdom as the new age of darkness was ushered in!

“If you thought that was funny?” Drew Beet asked, cutting Trip von Vanderhoff’s laughter into an angry gasp. Death Launcher reacted, his eyes flashing ominously as he prepared for combat.

Suddenly, The Blue Stingerborg leaped high from the smoke. the sunlight above gleaming off his armor–and the nanothin edge of his most powerful weapon: the Stinger Blade equipped over his right arm.

“You should see the look on your face!” The Blue Stingerborg shouted as Trip von Vanderhoff roared in fear and rage, and Princess Heather gasped for joy.

“Death Launcher, KILL HIM!” The Magnavore Baron roared, and Death Launcher obeyed. From both his shoulders, missiles roared from their launchers, a total of eight missiles converging upon the airborne Beetleborg.

In his left hand, Drew Beet brought up the Input Magnum, aimed and fired, narrow red beams catching the first two missiles before they could get close. The two missiles exploded, their blasts catching four of the others, leaving just two to pass through the expanding flame and smoke to their target.

“Hi-yaaaaah!” Drew Beet called out as he swung the electrically charged blade, cleaving through both missiles and passing them. Landing in a kneel with his arm blade held to his side, he chuckled before the bisected missiles exploded safely behind him, casting him in a black silhouette.

“Curses!” Trip von Vanderhoff shouted.

Death Launcher was already on it, raising his arms and opening fire with the twin machine cannons equipped over his wrists at Drew Beet.

The Beetleborg was no easy target, however, springing to his feet and going left from the high velocity rounds. As the ground was ripped up in his wake and trees shattered by the bullets, Drew Beet’s Stinger Blade began to spin thanks to the motors in the gauntlet weapon, starting slowly but quickly building speed until it looked like a solid glowing cone of blue electrical light.

Drew Beet cut right, and then left again, weaving in between the bullets, and shot even closer–passing under more missiles that Death Launcher fired at him. Just behind him, Trip von Vanderhoff gasped in fright. This wasn’t possible, how could he get so close?!

“You’ve got more bullets than sense!”

In a single swing, Drew Beet decided it. The spinning Stinger Blade tore through Death Launcher’s torso, halving the deadly robot across his waist as the Blue Stingerborg rushed past. Turning around as the top half fell towards him, Drew Beet kicked it high into the air up and over the trees, where it exploded with tremendous force.

“You shouldn’t have brought a gun to a sword fight!”

“I… how can this be?!” Trip von Vanderhoff exclaimed, and Drew Beet’s attention shot back to him.

“As for you!” The heroic Blue Stingerborg whirled around, the no-longer spinning blade sweeping through the air towards Trip von Vanderhoff.

Not wanting to taste the weapon’s edge, the cowardly baron dove out of the way by bare centimeters and scrambled to where his brother was pulling himself out of the ground. The blade missed Princess Heather by an even smaller margin, but not the ropes binding her to the tree.

As Her Highness was freed, Drew Beet turned to face the belligerent brothers with blade ready to strike.

“Had enough Vanderdorks?” He asked.

“Yes please,” a dazed Van von Vanderhoff mumbled.

Trip von Vanderhoff was overwhelmed with anger, but it was nothing compared to his fear. “You may have won this time, but the Magnavores will have their day, loser!”

Dragging his brother to his feet, Trip von Vanderhoff nodded and both brothers vanished in a sheet of flame. Satisfied with their cowardice, Drew Beet dispersed his trusted Stinger Blade–just in time to be embraced by the grateful Princess.

“Oh Drew Beet, you saved us all!” She cried as she hugged his arm. “You’re the greatest!”

The Beetleborg looked to her and for a moment stared at the beautiful, but approachable princess of blemishless fair skin, green eyes like fresh fields of grass, and blonde hair like the morning sun.

“Princess,” he said with all of the chivalry he could muster. “You have nothing more to fear, now that-”

“Oh my gosh, is that _another_ girl for Blue Beet?”

**@@@@@**

Andrew “Drew” McCormick was dragged straight back to reality, out of the pages of the latest in the hit comic book series: Big Bad Beetleborgs. He looked up, standing beside him was a tomboy wearing a red coveralls and a white shirt, with hair a darker shade of brown than his own.

“I swear,” his younger sister Josephine “Jo” McCormick lamented with a shake of her head, her long hair done in twin-tails wagging from side to side. “Art Fortunes must be running out of ideas if he’s resorting to this.”

Drew was offended by the very idea. “Come on, Jo. Just because this is what, the third-”  
  
“Fifth,” Jo corrected.

“-Female character he’s introduced inside a year doesn’t mean he’s running out of ideas and resorting to cheap fanservice.”

“Are we reading the same comic? Every other Blue Beet story since the Split Up Arc began has been him running into some random hot girl, saving her, and then her falling for him.”

“Not every girl! Queen Magna tried to make him her-”

“Love,” Jo interjected.  
  
“-Slave so she could conquer the multiverse!” Drew stopped and scowled at his sister.  
  
Jo rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Saint Papilia’s evil universe counterpart is just an excuse for him to cater to the Blue Beet/Papilia shippers without actually changing their relationship at all.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that!” Drew, being one of those shippers, asserted loudly.

“Hear, hear!” A few other patrons of the establishment they were reading comics alongside–fellow shippers–likewise agreed.

Zoom Comics, a bookstore in the heart of Echo Creek, just down the street from Britta’s Tacos and Echo Creek Park, had opened its doors only a half hour ago and was already a bustling place. Around Drew and Jo, comic and pop culture aficionados were already perusing the extensive stock of comics, manga, novels, figures, movies and games to offer in the bright, 90s-retro styled main floor of the building decorated wall to wall with everything fiction and fun.

Over behind the counter of the shop, Roland Williams looked over when he heard the shout. The African American teen, wearing a green t-shirt and light blue jeans, finished cashing out a customer and looked over. “Are you talking about the new weekly?”

“It’s more waifu garbage!” Jo called over.

  
Roland shrugged his shoulders and smiled gamely to Jo. “It can’t be helped, I guess. Stories with lots of cute girls are what’s popular these days.”

“It can be helped, Art can write more about Stag and Redler actually going after Vexor and Jara! Those stories have been _good.”_

“Now you’re being a hypocrite; you just want Stag and Redler to pick up where they left off,” Drew pointed out.

“Yeah, where they left off was _good,_ not any of this ‘Oh no, Oppai Dragon is so popular, gotta chase that trend’ crap Art’s doing with Blue.”

Roland narrowed his eyes at Jo. “We don’t talk about that filth in our wholesome comic book store.”

A shaggy, sleep-deprived customer set a stack of graphic novels before Roland. “Hey man, can I get these volumes of Crossed?”

Roland turned to him with a bright smile. “Of course, do you want that in paper or plastic?”

Down the counter from where Roland was cashing out the customer, was Zoom Comics’ barista Heather. She brushed off the black apron she wore over her black t-shirt and blue capris, before leaning on the counter.

“I like Blue’s Split Up Arc stories, even the ones where he meets girls,” she said and Drew’s face lit right up.

Jo, seeing her brother’s reaction, rolled her eyes. There he went, being hopeless again.

“Really?” He asked. “You liked them?”  
  
Heather, who was every bit as beautiful as Drew daydreamed while reading his comics, smiled and elaborated further. “Mr. Fortunes has been drawing the Beetleborgs as a team for almost 25 years; doing something big like splitting the team up gives him a chance to introduce new characters and build up new stories. Plus? The girls he’s been drawing are _really cute.”_

“I know, right?!” Drew exclaimed over eager to agree with her.

Jo groaned. “Heather, _please.”_

Heather giggled at Jo’s exasperation, before a rumble filled the air. She looked up and out the window, that guttural roar was familiar. Drew, Jo, and Roland all looked towards the windows as well.

“That sounds like Nano’s motorcycle and-” Heather stopped when she heard another, much louder engine. “Oh boy, she’s racing Old Man Pines.”

Drew looked to Jo. “How much you want to bet Nano wins?”  
  
Jo shook her head. “That is a sucker’s bet.”

Outside, just short of the door, the old woman put the bike into a slide perpendicular to the street and the direction she was traveling in–kicking up three trails of smoke from the tires and the boot she used to grind her hog to a halt. The SUV’s stop was no less dramatic, pitching into a spin out and sliding into a perfect parallel park just behind the motorcycle. Pedestrians who’d been gawking at the impromptu street race with phones out and shocked murmurs abruptly calmed down when they recognized who was involved, and carried on with their business.

Spilling out of the passenger side, pale and shaking, Dipper gripped the door and looked over at Shermie as the old man climbed out next. “Never. Again.”

Shermie thought it was funny as all get-out. “So you’ve gotten over your car sickness! I remember when you couldn’t handle backing out of the driveway.”

“I was too scared to be sick!” Dipper snapped back.

Mabel sprang from the SUV and landed, only to bounce up again and throw her hands upward. “That was awesome!”

Misao followed her, and jumped to high five her. “Yes! I love street racing!”

Back inside, Roland did a double-take in surprise when he saw the twins. Quietly, filled with dread, he uttered. “Oh no…”

“Who are they?” Drew said, watching the two girls jumping in celebration in a trance.

Jo was likewise intrigued by the tall, handsome boy wearing a Lumberjack hat in the LA heat trying to get some color back on his face.

As Dipper leaned against the car to catch his breath, Shermie walked around the front of the car to the woman dismounting the motorcycle. Looking up at him, the stout woman smirked. “I’m impressed, you could keep up with me this time.”  
  
“If I didn’t have just shy 430 pounds worth of teenagers weighing me down, I would’ve blown past you, Nano,” Shermie said, and Mabel whirled around like a guard alerted by the clapping of a thick snake.

Unstrapping her helmet the woman, Nano Williams, fistbumped Shermie. “Teenagers? Where them grandbabies of yours?”

“NANO!” Mabel yelled out. Nano looked down, and then up with widening eyes when she saw the teenager coming straight at her.

“Good lord child, you got big!” Nano blurted before Mabel caught her in a hug big enough to lift her off her feet. “Real big, look at you!”

“You have no idea how much it’s improved my hug game,” Mabel said cheerfully as Nano returned the embrace.

Soon as Mabel set Nano down, the woman looked to Dipper. “Dipper, come over here and give your Nano a hug!”

With his own composure recovered, Dipper walked over and hugged her. “It’s nice to see you again, Nano.”

“Lord have mercy, what are your parents feeding you two?” Nano asked as she looked back and forth between them. “And where can I get some recipes?”

Misao joined Mabel’s side, as Dipper let out a small embarrassed laugh. “Hello!”

Nano looked down at her. “And you’re… small.”

“And cute,” Mabel added.

“And definitely not one of Sherman’s grandkids.” She looked up at Shermie with narrowing eyes. “I hope.”

“Not unless I left a lonely heart in Berlin,” Shermie mused with a shrug.

“I’m Misao, Dipper and Mabel saved me from being kidnapped by supervillains,” she introduced herself.

Nano looked from Misao to the twins, and then to their grandfather, back to the twins, and down at her again. “Honest to goodness, I believe it. You won’t believe what these two can get up to.”  
  
“They’re dang fine kids,” Shermie said as he patted both Dipper and Mabel on their shoulders.

Smiling proudly, Nano turned and gestured for them to follow her into the shop. “Come on in, Roland’s going to be so thrilled to see you two.”

Mabel tensed up, like she’d almost completely forgot something extremely awkward until this very moment. “Uh. Oh. _Right._ How _is_ Roland?”

Roland was not thrilled, when he saw Dipper and Mabel talking with his Grandmother. “What are _they_ doing here?”

“Who are they?” Jo asked as her gaze lingered on Dipper.

Roland grabbed a box of comics and made his way from behind the counter to stock up on the shelves–or at least pretend to out of sight of the door. He had an expression of discomfort that concerned Drew and Jo as they lagged a bit behind him. Neither of the McCormick siblings had seen these two before.

“Those are Old Man Pines’ grandkids, Dipper and Mabel,” Roland said as he put a shelf of graphic novels between him and the door, “They’re weird and annoying.”

Jo peeked around the shelf, again focusing on Dipper. “They don’t seem weird to me.”

Drew, on the other hand, had his eyes on Mabel and Misao, both girls looked way too cute for them to be weird. He’d seen some _weird girls_ in the last couple weeks, too.”

“Yeah, they don’t seem weird, but-”

**Roland Williams, Age 8.**

_The Williams Family had been invited to attend a Thanksgiving Dinner at the home of Sherman Pines. The Patriarch of the Pines family rarely held such functions, but his son and his family had come down from Piedmont to spend time with him and when word of it got to Nano, she convinced Shermie to make a party of it, and he did it with gusto. So now Roland was sitting in an old person’s living room full of people he didn’t know, waiting for Thanksgiving dinner to be served. He didn’t really want to be there, because coming here meant that he had to miss having Thanksgiving with his best friend Drew._

_“Roland, sweetie,” his mother Abbie Williams called as she led over a pair of twins._

_The boy had his nose buried in a book titled “Dr. Crackpot’s Book of the Damned”, and didn’t seem particularly interested in the world outside it. The girl, however, was dressed like a pilgrim, carrying a toy blunderbuss and looking like she was about to explode with excitement the moment she laid eyes on him._

_“These are Mr. Pines grandchildren, Dipper and Mabel. Would you be a sweetheart and play with them while we get dinner finished?”_

_Roland was relieved just to see other kids at this otherwise boring dinner he had to dress nice for. “Sure, Mom!”_

_“All right, play nice,” Abbie said as she left the sitting room._

_Roland did as all boys his age did, and engaged Dipper directly. “So hey, I’m Roland, do you want to go-?”  
  
“No,” Dipper cut him off abruptly without looking up from his book._

_Roland recoiled a bit, surprised by Dipper’s sharpness._

_Mabel swooped in, taking Roland’s arm.. “Oh, Dipper’s a putz, don’t even worry about him. If you want to go outside, we can play Historically Accurate Thanksgiving!”_

_Roland was relieved that Mabel seemed normal, but also curious by what she meant. “Historically Accurate…?”_

_Mabel ushered him to the door. “It’s thanksgiving with a twist! You won’t look at turkey the same ever again!”_

Roland’s expression was haunted as he stopped the story there. “It wasn’t fun, but it was _enlightening.”_

Drew’s mouth fell open. “Wait, _she’s_ the reason you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving anymore.”

“Yeah,” Roland said with a strong grimace.

Jo surprisingly agreed. “Thanksgiving is a dumb holiday anyway, so what was so bad about having the grand illusion shattered?”  
  
Roland shook his head bitterly. “She insisted I be the Native American because ‘she already had the pilgrim outfit.’”

Jo stared at Roland with wide eyes, as all the implications hit at once. _“Oh.”_

Drew looked towards the door, as Nano walked in leading the Pines party. Dipper made a line straight towards the café, where Heather was, while Mabel–scanning the area suspiciously–led Misao to the manga section.

“Roland,” Nano called, “Dipper and Mabel are here with their grandfather, come say hi!”

“I’m stocking the X-Men, I’ll be over!” Roland called back, before muttering aloud to only Drew and Jo. “In like six hours.”

Drew didn’t buy it. “Come on, she was what, 8 years old? You can’t really blame her for something like that, she didn’t know better.”

Roland was ready for that.

“Okay, then there was-”  
  
**Roland Williams, Age 10**  
  
_Roland sighed. A perfectly good motorcycle ride ruined by its destination: Nano had brought him to Shermie Pines’ home to play something called shogi, which meant he was going to be spending the next three hours with his grandkids and he wasn’t looking forward to it._

_Being responsible for Thanksgiving being banned in the Williams home aside, the Pines kids weren’t exactly the most sociable people. Dipper barely talked and when he did it was about weird and disturbing stuff–he didn’t even seem interested in comic books. Mabel was the opposite extreme, extroverted and headstrong, but also completely inconsiderate and borderline psychopathic in her pursuit of anything that interested her._

_After two years apart, he was hoping that they would be better to hang out with, but he didn’t have high hopes as he found Dipper in the back yard of Shermie’s home, reading a Newspaper titled “The Free Huey World Report” with a headline calling smart home peripherals “DIY Government Wire-Tapping.”_

_“So…” Roland said as he looked at the newspaper with a mix of concern and optimistic hope. “… I brought over a couple of handhelds, do you want to play together?”_

_“I’ll pass. Handhelds that are always connected to the internet like yours record your voice even when you think you turned off the mic. You should get rid of it.”_

_Okay, he was going to be an absolute downer. He looked around warily. “Where’s your sister…?”_

_The back patio door crashed open, and out stepped Mabel. She was wearing baggy jean shorts, an oversized basketball jersey, sunglasses, and a baseball cap turned to her right. Around her neck was a clearly handmade paper necklace holding up a paper pendant of yellow letters caked in gold glitter that spelled “MABIZZLE”._

_Roland didn’t understand what he was looking at._  
  
_Dipper understood exactly what he was looking at._

_Both didn’t like it and would like it even less in the next few seconds._

_“Ayo! Mabizzle up in the hizzo, fo’ rizzo!” She announced as a generic hiphop beat played behind her. Seeing Roland, she strode up to him all gangsta and junk, and struck a pose. “Aw, it’s mah homie Ro-dawg! Yo, yo, show a girl some love fo’ real? What’s happenin’ my ni-”_

“Oh my God!” Jo cut Roland off, horrified.

Drew was equally shaken. “Okay, _that’s bad.”_

Roland raised a hand. “Wait, in her defense, she said ‘nizzo’, but she acted like that _the entire time I was there.”_

He turned back to stock to find places to cram comics so he could look busy. “So excuse me if I try to lay low and hope that they’re just here for the weekend. We don’t need those two making anything more uncomfortable or weirder than it already is around here.”

Jo and Drew looked over at the manga section again, and watched Mabel talking animatedly to Misao while holding up a cute story about dragon maids. Drew hummed and turned back to face Roland. Jo remained on watch, and her gaze drifted back to where Dipper had gone.

“It’s been five, almost six years, though. Maybe they’ve actually changed and they’re _not_ weird?” Drew offered.

“Or maybe they’ve gotten weirder.”

“You won’t be sure if you don’t talk to them.”

Jo, who wasn’t having any of Drew’s hypocritical nonsense, added. “Yeah, and if you don’t want to? Just ask Heather what Dipper’s like–because he’s chatting her up right now.”

Drew nearly gave himself whiplash as he went back to the end of the bookshelf and looked over Jo’s head with a stricken expression. “Wait, what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so our plot begins!


	4. Lepidopterology

**|Lepidopterology|**

With the adrenaline of a quarter-mile street drag race out of his system, Dipper was less anxious and more prescient of the opportunity in front of him. Zoom Comics was always a busy place, and there were a lot of kids his age hanging out reading comics, playing games, or just quietly vegging out to lo-fi beats on their headphones. As Mabel and Misao went to look at manga, and Shermie went to get his pull list with Nano, he went straight to the café and the girl behind it who appeared to have just gotten started on her shift. Heather, her name tag read, was pretty cute… not cool redhead with a hatchet or blonde socialite with a redemption arc cute, but she was really easy on the eyes.

She smiled at him as all service industry workers did, when he reached the counter. “Hey, welcome to the Zoom Café, what can I get started for you?”

“Do you have any Pitt Cola?” Dipper asked. It was a long shot, but he couldn’t find it anywhere in the Bay Area.

Heather’s brows furrowed. “… Is that like a regional thing?”

“If you don’t, that’s fine.” Oh well, he tried. “I’ll have some iced tea.”

“Sweetened or unsweetened?” Heather asked cheerfully, relieved that he wasn’t going to throw a fit over not having something special around.

“Unsweetened, large cup,” Dipper replied. “And light on the ice.”

She found that interesting, but also quite nice that she didn’t have to do much for his order. “Let me get that for you.”

As she went to the container to fill up a cup, Dipper rested his forearms on the counter and folded them to lean forward a bit. Heather looked out of the corner of her eye at him, paying particular attention to his arms, up to his shoulders, and then his face. His gaze was wandering around the back of the counter. She focused on filling the cup, as he spoke.

“So, do you go to school around here, or…?”  
  
She looked back. “Huh? Oh, yeah… I go to Echo Creek Academy.”

“Cool,” Dipper said, “My sister and I are starting there Monday. My name’s Dipper.”

Heather recognized the name. “So you’re Mr. Pines’ grandson?”

“He’s talked about me?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah, I’ve had to put up with him bragging about you once or twice,” Heather said, “Sounds like he was dropping hints.”

Dipper was incredulous. “What has he said about me?”  
  
“Oh, stuff like that you helped save an entire town… and that you’re basically a shoo-in for any college in the country because you’re _‘sharper than a bayonet on D-Day.’”_

_“Come on, Grandpa,”_ Dipper lamented to himself, before he waved it off. “He’s exaggerating; I didn’t save an entire town, and my grades aren’t all _that_ … I think?”

Honestly he never paid attention to his grades in school outside of the maths and sciences.

Heather brought his drink to him after putting on a cover. “He does go on about you, but I guess you don’t want to hear about it.”

“Please, say no more,” Dipper mock pleaded as he took his cup. “I did want to ask, though.”

“What?”

Dipper looked from side to side, like he was worried for anyone listening in. “Do you know anything about weird things happening at school involving magic?”

Heather sighed. “I guess since you’re coming here, you would ask about _her.”_

Taking a straw and opening it, he stabbed it into the cup. “Sorry if that bothers you.”  
  
“It’s cool, but I am _so_ the last person who knows anything about Star Butterfly. I go to school with her, but I’m not in any of her classes so I have no idea what she’s like, but most everyone at school likes her.”

“So you haven’t seen anything she’s done?”

As he took a sip of his drink, Heather’s eyes widened slightly, before she too gave a conspiratorial look around. She leaned close to him.

“Okay, that? I’ve seen _that,”_ she revealed, “ I got caught up in some pretty crazy stuff with her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah the first time was our first football game of the season–she went nuts and turned the football field into a warzone. The second time was during this one girl’s birthday party? She and her friend Marco snuck onto the party bus when it was _bombing_ , and she started doing magic tricks and saved the whole thing.”  
  
Dipper saw the video footage of the first thing, well, the aftermath of it. Star and Marco had been ordered by the Principal to repair the football field and get rid of any unsprung magical traps. He suspected that Marco probably had a future in Explosive Ordnance Disposal, because he was shockingly adept at it.

Heather continued, “Well, it _was_ going great before a bunch of monsters hijacked the bus and fought Star to get her wand. She kicked the crap out of all of them, but the bus crashed and we all had to go home after that.”

Dipper stopped musing over Marco’s EOD skills abruptly. “Come again?”

“Yeah, the only reason nobody died was because Star turned the inside of the bus into a bounce house.”

Heather paused to think about it, and laughed. “Actually? That part was pretty fun.”

That bothered him “Isn’t it strange that there’s a magical girl who fights monsters, and people get caught up in it?”

Heather shrugged her shoulders. “Come on, dude, there’s a Cheerleader in Colorado who goes around fighting supervillains, and the 90s were full of gargoyles, dudes in bird costumes fighting sad Russian Clowns and German Strudel makers.”

She laughed again. “The sky could probably open up right now and it’d be just another day in paradise, you know?”

Dipper did, but he was pretty sure the reaction to the sky opening up would be a little more dramatic than she thought.

“Hollywood would have a camera on every street corner to get some good shots,” he joked with a wry smile nevertheless.

“Like they don’t already? That’s probably why Star’s craziness isn’t a big deal. It’s _LA_ , dude; anything that can happen _will_ happen here and as long as someone has a camera pointed at it, it’s just another movie.”

That was true. There were some things you could write off as Youtube pranks gone horribly wrong (or right), hallucinations caused by bad food, and random mass-psychosis, but the party bus was not one of them–especially as Heather described it.

People should be more alarmed about this sort of thing. He remembered Mabel holding a pageant that got the Piedmont Police breaking it up because Waddles was underage. A magical girl fighting bizarre creatures and rolling a bus full of high school students should be having the whole city up in arms.

That was something worth considering, Dipper kept in mind. “Thanks for the heads up on Star.”

“No problem; that’ll be a dollar eight for the tea,” Heather reminded him.

Dipper did not forget. He set down ten dollars on the counter, and when Heather looked at it in surprise, he added. “Do what you want with the change, all right?”

There was a little bit more in her smile as she took the money. “Thanks, man.”

Taking a sip of his tea, Dipper turned and headed over to his sister and Misao–leaving Heather watching him go appreciatively in his wake. Over at the bookshelf, Drew had a shell-shocked expression.

“I changed my mind, he’s the worst,” he murmured.

Jo pulled back from the shelf and folded her arms. _“Really?”_

Roland slipped back behind the shelf and shook his head. “Aw man, it’s even worse. He’s grown up into a douchebag.”

“Being able to talk to a girl doesn’t make you a douchebag,” Jo helpfully pointed out before she verbally jumped on Drew. “Especially since you can’t seem to.”

Drew grimaced and began wringing his hands. “I can talk to her!”

“Yeah, about comics and only when she initiates,” Jo pointed out.

“It is so hard to just strike up a conversation with one of the best girls at school,” Drew argued.

Roland agreed as the door chimed again. “I know, I’m kinda like that with Jackie Lynn Thomas.”  
  
“What boy at school isn’t?” Jo asked.

“Then you know what I mean! I swear, she lights up any room she walks into, and music follows her out when she leaves.”

“Pedestaling, much?” Jo asked.

“I’m not putting her on a pedestal!”

“You totally are, but go off.”

“Man I just like her, okay? I don’t want to worship her like a goddess or something–I just want to hang out with her, make her laugh, read comics with her… just… be her guy, you know?”

Drew looked back towards where Dipper was now talking with the other girls he came in with. “I just don’t want to be like _that guy,_ sliding in all smooth and flashing some money to impress girls and having nothing else going for him.”

Jo looked at Dipper again and licked her lips. “Mm… he’s got a lot more going for him than a few dollars.”

“You know what I mean!”

Rolling her eyes, Jo turned back to face her older brother. “Then why don’t you let your balls drop and go talk to her?”

She had a great idea. “I know! Homecoming is in like two weeks, throw caution to the wind and ask her to go to the dance!”

“If I could, I would,” Drew said with a sigh, casting his gaze downward. “I am such trash when it comes to her.”  
  
“Hey, you said it,” a sharp, arrogant voice called.

Drew blanched, Roland grimaced, and Jo scowled as two more teenagers Drew and Roland’s age came around the corner.

Both were dressed in pristine white pants and light pastel-colored shirts, like they had just left a country-club, though the slightly larger of the two boys with brown hair cut into tresses wore his long-sleeve shirt tied around his waist so he could show off his muscular arms with the sleeveless shirt underneath. His smaller companion, with short blonde hair and glasses, still had his shirt on, a very light sweater over it, and carried in his hand a closed manilla envelope. Heather noticed the two as well, and for a brief moment her expression soured.

Across the floor, Mabel noticed Roland and the McCormicks, plus the two preppy boys. “Oh… there he is.”

“Who are they?” Dipper asked.

“No good shtunks; keep your eye on ‘em,” Shermie warned. He and Nano were sitting at one of the tables, Shermie leafing through his pull list and not looking at all amused. Nano’s expression was harsher, the old woman looking halfway ready to get up and walk over.

True to his warning, Trip Vanderhoff revealed exactly the kind of person he was. “Honestly though, the look is missing something. How about putting on another hundred pounds and letting that neckbeard grow in, Andrew? Then at least you’ll look as pathetic as you act.”

“Yeah, we can’t have people mistaking you for someone who isn’t a loser,” his brother Van added.

“Seriously?” Dipper asked, incredulous that they would be so blatant.

Jo liked to bully and annoy her brother, but she was the only one allowed to. “You’d better not be walking in here just to talk crap to my brother, Vanderhoff!”

“As fun and easy as that is? No, Josephine, I’m here to ask Heather out to the Homecoming Dance.”

Heather visibly grimaced.

“As if she’d go with you,” Drew growled.

“Why not? I’m good-looking, I’ve got money, and I know how to talk to a girl without my voice cracking– _Andrew.”_ Trip’s tone dripped arrogance. “Besides, I’ve got an ace in the hole. Watch and learn, dweeb, and maybe one day in thirty years you’ll finally get that pity date.”

Tossing the envelope to himself, he walked with a swagger over to the café counter. Noticing some candy suckers in a glass jar up for sale, he grabbed and unwrapped one to pop in his mouth before leaning against the counter in front of Heather.

Heather was on the clock, so she greeted the young man with a warm, professional smile. “Hey Trip, I hope you’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh don’t worry about that; my Dad owns this building, remember?” Trip explained to her, as though it were imperative that she and everyone in earshot be reminded.

“How can I forget?” Heather asked in a light, stiff tone.

“One of those guys,” Dipper said in dismay.

Mabel was disgusted, a rare thing for her to be. “It’s like the worst parts of Gideon and Pacifica had a baby and it moved to Hollywood to become famous.”

“Er ist eine kotzbrocken…” Misao seethed.

Deflecting gracefully, Heather held true to her profession. “So! What can I get you?”

Trip reached up with his free hand and flicked his curly hair as he offered the envelope to her. “You can get together with me for the Homecoming Dance, what do you say?”

Heather looked at the envelope and, dreading the contents, looked back up at Trip. “What is this?”

“Open it,” he insisted, “It’s something you’ll find interesting.”

Jo whispered aside to Drew and Roland. “Five dollars says that it’s blackmail material.”

“He’s not that stupid,” Drew muttered back.

“You do realize how vast that threshold is, right?” Roland reminded him.

Hesitantly, Heather opened the envelope and slowly pulled out the plastic-wrapped book inside. In an instant, her eyes flew wide and she dropped it like it were pictures of her relatives splattered all over the inside of a garage.

“Oh my God!” She cried in disbelief.

Jo looked at Drew. “Just PayPal it to me.”

Heather picked it up again, however, stunned. She looked at Trip and back at the book. “No way…”

Slowly, she pulled the comic book sitting in a protective plastic bag. Across its top read its title “Who is afraid of… The Big Bad Beetleborgs” over the trio of insect-themed armored heroes striking battle poses. In its corner, were the words “Issue #1!” in smaller but no less eye-catching print.

Drew caught sight of it first, but only by a split second. “No freaking way!”

Roland’s eyes practically fell out of his head. “A first edition of Big Bad Beetleborgs #1?!”

Trip glanced out the corner of his eye at Drew, before speaking to Heather. “I know how much you love comic books, what with you working here, so I thought: What would be the best gift to court the fairest Heather and invite her to the Homecoming Dance?”

Drew could not hold it in. “You just… do you even realize what you’re giving her?!”

Trip and Van both turned their attention fully to Drew as he rushed over to them, Roland and Jo right behind him. He gestured to the comic, barely keeping his composure.

“Only two hundred of those comics were ever printed!” Drew said as he looked at it, and his eyes got bigger. In the upper right hand corner, a sticker reading “Dusk 2 Dawn” with the price of “$ 0.79” underneath it.

The color drained entirely from Drew’s face, Jo and Roland were just as flabbergasted. He looked back up at Trip. “This is one of the Dusk 2 Dawn copies.”

A familiar name caught Dipper and Mabel’s attention, while Shermie and Nano reacted with similar disbelief.

“The holy grail,” Roland said.

“There are only two comics with that sticker in existence,” Jo murmured. “Trip must’ve paid out the nose for this!”

“Exactly two million, one hundred seventy three thousand, six hundred eighteen dollars,” Trip revealed.

Van added. “And sixty-nine cents.”

Trip offered his hand back over his shoulder to his brother, who gave him five. “Nice.”

Bringing his hand back onto the counter, he leaned into it. “It took like two weeks worth of allowance to save up for it, but only the best for the best, you know? So, Homecoming?”

Heather was frozen where she stood, unsure of how to respond. “Huh uh… what? Whoa, this is um… this is…”

Trip performed a flip of his hair. “Come on, you can’t say no to something like this…”

Misao scowled in anger. “Vile filth…”

Mabel shared in it, as did Dipper. Putting someone on the spot in public with a gift like that, even a nice one, was straight up coercion.

Drew looked at Heather’s expression; she seemed desperate to say anything other than yes to Trip… but the sheer scope of the gift he was offering her made just saying no almost impossible. For a moment, he saw not the pretty barista he crushed massively on, but the stricken princess tied to the tree and at the frightful mercy of the Magnavores.

“She can,” he said as he stepped forth–to the surprise of Jo and Roland. “You could offer her the whole world, Vanderhoff, but she’s not obligated to do anything if she doesn’t want to.”

Heather let out a relieved breath, as Trip jumped in surprise that Drew would step outside of his place. “Come on, Andrew, I spent over two milli to get this thing and I’m giving it to her.”

He looked back to her. “All she has to do is go out with-”

She was away from him entirely, and tightly gripping the front of her apron in both hands.

His hesitation passed. “-me?”

“I… uh…” Heather said hesitantly. “… I already had plans… that evening…”

Well, that didn’t seem like a problem with Trip. Who stepped way too close to the counter. “Well, then cancel. Tell them someone had a better bid, Heather.”

Drew grabbed Trip by the upper arm to rein him in. “You heard what she said, man.”

Trip wrenched his arm free of Drew, and Van roughly pushed him back. “Don’t touch me, trash!”

That did it for Heather, and she lashed out at him. “I’m definitely not going with you, Trip!”

He turned and glared at Heather, who once more looked relieved. Looking back at Drew, his eyes widened with anger behind his glasses as he put 1 and 1 together.

He pointed at Drew as he faced Heather. “What? With him?!”

Drew recoiled. “With me?!”

Heather was likewise startled. “Uh…?! Excuse me-?!”

Trip Vanderhoff was the son of one of the richest people in Los Angeles, which said a lot in a town of A-list actors, directors, and producers. From as far as he could remember, there was one thing that no one said to him, ever, and that was _no._ Not his father, not his mother, not his stepmothers, and certainly not gutter trash on the street! He definitely wasn’t going to take it from a girl too good for them, either!

His composure returning abruptly, he regarded Drew with a nasty smile, and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I suppose that’s fine then.”

Opening the plastic seal of the comic, he shook the book into his hand… and took it in both. “I guess I won’t be needing this garbage anymore.”  
  
In horror, Drew realized what Trip was about to do, and lunged forward right into Van’s outstretched arm. “NO!”

“You Godless moron!” Jo yelled with him.

“Don’t do it!” Roland and a few other people in the shop shouted.

As Drew reached him in vain, Trip let out a loud blowing sound against the paper of the comic as he faked ripping it in half. It stopped Drew cold in his place, tears threatening to form in his eyes as for a brief second, he thought Trip had actually destroyed comic book history in front of him.

“What the heck,” Mabel murmured as more a statement of bewilderment than an actual question.

Seeing the brief instant of light dying in Drew’s eyes was worth it as he held aloft the comic undamaged. “Psyche.”

“Haha, the look on your face Andrew,” Van said as he pushed Drew back.

Trip laughed. “Man, that is just priceless!”

A hand tightly gripped his shoulder. “Wait ‘til they see the look on yours.”

Trip was pulled around abruptly, and Dipper’s fist collided solidly with his jaw, sending him crashing against the counter and onto the floor.

The whole bookstore went dead quiet, everyone involved in the confrontation in particular recoiling as Trip laid on the ground. The silent tension quickly broke when the wealthy young man began sobbing like a struck child.

Clutching his face, Trip looked up at Dipper. “What the hell is wrong with you-?!”

“Shut up!” Dipper yelled. “I don’t care how much money you have, if I see you acting like a psychotic douchebag again I will beat you over the head with your brother!”

Grabbing Trip by his arm, he hauled him to his feet and shoved the crying millionaire to the door of the store. “Now get out of here!”

He turned around, and there was his brother barreling towards him to grab and start punching him like every dumb kid in a fight does. Sidestepping Van, Dipper grabbed and shoved him into Trip, sending both brothers crashing through the doors and onto the sidewalk outside. Kicking it open after them, he held it open and glowered at both brothers.

“Let that be a warning to both of you!” He shouted before yanking the door closed and locking it.

There was only so much of that crap he was going to tolerate. He put up with it from Gideon Gleeful until he tried to kill him _repeatedly_ , he tolerated it with Pacifica Northwest and her family of jerks until it threatened to kill him, his sister, and hundreds of innocent people, so he sure as the sun was going to get in front of it on his first day in Los Angeles and let these rich twits know!

“Dipper!” Mabel called out as she walked up to him, her eyes sparkling. “That was awesome!”

She stopped and looked at his fist then up to his face. “Also violent, what the heck?”

“We have enough on our plate; I’m not going to stress over tiptoeing around a couple of rich d-bags,” Dipper explained himself.

“So you smack them around?” Misao asked.

“The way I see it; we were going to deal with them sooner or later. I chose _sooner.”_

All three looked out the glass doors; Trip was being hustled into the back of a luxury SUV by the car’s driver, still clutching his face and bawling his eyes out. Van was right behind him, looking to the driver helping them with visible concern–like he’d never heard the mule-like braying coming from Trip before.

Misao looked up at Dipper, her eyebrows raised and her lips pulled into a gentle smile. “I’ve been having fun before, but now I _like you.”_

Dipper’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Heh, uh… thanks.”

The German wasn’t the only one impressed, as Drew, Jo, and Roland made their way over. From everything he remembered about the Pines twins, Dipper just hauling off and decking someone (deservedly, no less) was the furthest thing to expect from him. Mabel too, it’d been over ten minutes and she hadn’t made anything weird.

For Drew, Dipper was suddenly the coolest and stupidly insane person he’d met since Nano. Like out of a comic book or its live action adaptation directed by someone competent, he just clobbered the richest boy in town and didn’t care!

As for Jo? She now understood her brother’s hopeless mooning over Heather after the most satisfying moment in her life. Unlike Drew, she was already working on the perfect line to make her the sole occupant of Dipper’s thoughts.

Dipper looked back at Roland. “Oh, hey Roland.”

“Uh, hi,” Roland replied.

Mabel’s smile became painfully strained as she faced Roland. “Hey… Roland… um… been a while…?”  
  
“… Yeah,” Roland awkwardly replied.

“I just want to start by saying that I am really, _really sorry_ for all the racist stuff I did when we were little,” she said earnestly–prompting Misao to look up at her with wide eyes.

“He’s over it,” Jo cut Roland off before he could respond and introduced herself to Dipper. “I’m Josephine McCormick, but you can call me Jo.”

Dipper stared at her. “Hey Jo, I’m Dipper. This is my sister Mabel, and our… uh... friend Misao.”

Jo smirked. _“Heh, got ‘em.”_

Drew introduced himself next. “I’m Drew and uh… yeah, you hit Trip Vanderhoff. Not even his own father hit him.”

“My Dad never hit me either, but I know to act better than that,” Dipper replied.

Drew smiled. “So do you like comics?”

“Sure,” Dipper answered, “But I’m not a regular reader.”

Seeing the opportunity for a fresh start, Drew turned to Roland. “Hey, you can help Dipper get a pull list started and catch up.”

And clear up some of the past awkwardness, Roland relaxed a little bit with the opportunity to start anew. “Sounds good, have you ever read Beetleborgs?”

Dipper shook his head. “No.”  
  
Heather, who had gone around to the front of the counter, called over. “Well… if you want to read the very first issue? Now is a good chance.”

Dipper, Mabel, Misao, Drew, Jo, and Roland looked at Heather… and their expressions went blank as all sorts of emotions piled up in the rush to get there first. Heather held up Trip’s two million dollar comic book, with a grim expression of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure everything will be fine and there will be no consequences for this.


	5. The Princess and the Safe Kid

**|The Princess and The Safe Kid|**

Marco Diaz knew what he was signed up for within the first five minutes of meeting Star Butterfly. He wasn’t completely on board with it until five hours later when he got to maul a bunch of monsters alongside her in a convenience store parking lot. After that, spending every other day fighting the forces of evil, guiding and hanging out with Star in his world, and going on adventures into hers was pretty much the best.

At least it was until that lawyer lizard guy showed up.

Toffee, that’s what his name was. He wasn’t sure about where he came from or what his deal was, but he wanted to destroy Star’s wand and he almost got her to do it. Well, he _did_ get her to do it… but the only thing that happened was that he got destroyed with it and Star got her magic wand back.

It came back wrong, though, which was why he and Star spent a precious Saturday morning cleaning off green glitter gunk off every inch of Star’s bedroom–a magically conjured tower that stuck out haphazardly from the side of the Diaz family’s A-Frame style home. After getting examined by the living embodiment of Star’s Book of Spells and given a poor bill of health, the wand had gone off and splattered her room and everything in it.

“Hey Star, if your wand’s actually broken don’t you think you should get it fixed?” Marco asked as he swept the last of the magical goop into a portal carved into the middle of Star’s floor. He was wearing his favorite red hoodie and brown pants, but with the addition of an apron and a face mask to avoid breathing in strange fumes.

Star was on the other side of the hole in the floor, pushing more of the green mess into it with a broom. “Well, Glossaryck wasn’t too worried about it. He said it was just broken.”

Marco wasn’t sure about the assurance from the little man in the book, which was sitting on her bed undisturbed at the moment. “That guy is obtuse and speaks in metaphors; you think he might be low-balling the problem because it’s some kind of test?”

“Pshaw, speaks in ‘metaphors’. Really, Marco? He only speaks English and Mewnman,” Star said as the last of the mess her wand made all over her room vanished into the portal.

Did Star know what a metaphor was? Thinking about it and knowing Star, he realized that was a silly question with an obvious answer. “We should at least go to Quest Buy to see if we can get it repaired? Mage Squad might know how to fix it.”

“It’s _fine,”_ Star insisted before holding the wand aloft. “Watch! Radiant Shadow Transform!”

Marco yelped. “Star wait-!”

In a flash Marco had been transformed. Wearing a lovely and poofy violet ball gown, his voluminous hair was waist length even tied into a ponytail, and his facial features had been changed slightly with the magical makeup enchantments the spell applied on his face.

Princess Marco Turdina looked down at himself. “Princess Turdina-?! Star!”

“See? The wand still works!” Star tossed it to herself in victory, and in a rare moment of clumsiness missed the catch, causing her to scramble to secure it. “Whoa, oh no!”

Princess Turdina folded his arms. “Okay, but can you change me back?”

Star aimed the wand at her face. “Watch.”

In a flash of light, Marco was still Princess Turdina, but also a centaur, the lower half of his dress now filled out over a horse’s body.

“I am _so_ sorry,” Star prefaced everything that was about to happen.

Turdina knew this was going to be how it was. “It’s fine, try again.”

Star aimed the wand again, and transformed Marco into Princess Turdina, but now a tiny butterfly.

“This is weird! Too weird!” Turdina cried out in a small, high pitched voice as he fluttered around with big, pretty purple wings.

“Uh…!” Alarmed, she zapped Marco again into Princess Turdina, but now a blob of purple slime in a matching dress.

“Try it again!” Turdina gurgled.

Star did so, turning Marco into Princess Turdina, but a large werewolf with brown fur, gnashing jaws lined with razor sharp teeth, and a large powerful physique tightly wrapped in a beautiful violet dress. “Wait, hold on, this one’s kind of cool.”

“Ooh, the She-Wolf of St. Olga’s,” Star said, impressed, before the wand went off on its own, turning Marco back to Princess Turdina.

Princess Turdina looked down at himself, and back at Star. “We need to get the wand fixed.”

Star looked at the wand, huffed, and walked over to her bed and the Book of Spells. “If Glossaryck couldn’t fix it, I don’t think Mage Squad can.”

Turdina disagreed as he followed her. “I think he can, he just won’t tell us how or why. All weird mentor guys are like that.”  
Sitting on the bed next to the book, Star flopped backward onto it and sighed. “Glossaryck, how do I fix my wand?”

From the book, a muffled voice replied. “To fix the wand and set magic free, a piece displaced must be cleaved.”

“See? Obtuse and speaks in metaphors!”

Star looked from her wand to Turdina. “What does that even mean?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but if I had to guess? Something that’s missing needs to be cut in half.”

“No, I mean, metaphors. What are those?”

A little exasperated, Turdina sighed. “A comparison of two things without using the words like or as.”

Star worked that out in her head for about two and a half seconds. “Wait, _that’s it?”_

“That is the literal definition,” Turdina said before he headed for the door, “I’m going to change my clothes. I still want to go to the park.”

Star brightened. “Meet you downstairs–and I _will_ fix this!”

“Right, right…” Not two steps out into the hallway, Turdina ran into his mother as she was bending down to drop off a basket full of his clothes fresh from the dryer. Angie Diaz had heard his voice as it opened.

“Marco, I just finished with your clean clothes for the-” She stopped and gave a bit of a start seeing her son dressed as such a lovely young woman. “Oh!”

Now today was perfect. “Uh… hi Mom?”

Angie looked Turdina over, and uncertainty flashing over her gentle features.

He wasn’t too concerned. It looked weird, but there was an entirely rational reason (relatively speaking) for this and this was not weird. “Look, I can explain-”

Angie held up her hand. “Marco, there is nothing you need to explain, it’s all right.”

She rested that hand on his poofy-dressed shoulder. “You look absolutely lovely, and if you need some advice about how to look or acclimate…”

Turdina sighed. “Mom, it’s fine, don’t worry. Star just did a magic thing… it’s not…”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried!” Angie quickly said.

“Are you sure because you seemed-”

“No, nonono, I just didn’t expect to see you in a dress!” Much quieter, she added: “Or that you’d be so beautiful…”

“What was that-?”

“Marco, clothes.” She rapidly picked up the basket again and handed it to him. Taking the hint, Turdina stumbled into his room and bumped the door closed with his hip.

Standing there in the hallway, Angie quietly mulled over the unexpected encounter and came to a conclusion. It’d be nice to have a daughter.

**@@@@@**

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try fixing it?” Star asked as they two of them walked the short distance to Echo Creek Park from the Diaz home.

Back in another red hoodie and brown pants, Turdina looked like Marco again, though he was still breathtakingly beautiful and his hair remained in its long-flowing ponytail down his back. Despite this, he wasn’t upset.

“We can do it after we know the wand will work. Besides, being Turdina is okay,” Turdina frankly admitted before looking at his reflection in the window of a business. “You see this? I look _great.”_

“Oh yeahyeahyeahyeah,” Star agreed.

She looked down at her wand, and tried to push her concern about its malfunctions down. She’d messed up on her spells before, especially those not selflessly devoted members of the smash face club, so being unable to change Marco back immediately didn’t bother her.

Glossaryck explicitly calling it broken still shook her, though. How was it broken? How could she fix it? His instructions didn’t offer any insight at all. What did setting the world free have to do with cleaving something as vague as a “missing piece” and how did it fix her wand?

“When we get to the park, you can practice with your new wand, and then when we’re sure it works-”

Star lit up. “We’ll change you back! Good idea, Marco.”

“We’ll just find a clear spot where it’s safe…” Turdina trailed off when he heard a distressing sound. It sounded like a horse crying at the top of its lungs, the voice pitching and cracking in weird ways as it hollered. “What… what _is_ that?”

“It sounds like Warnicorns fighting, or mating.” Star paused for just a moment. “Honestly it’s hard to tell what’s happening even if you’re there.”

Turdina did not want to visualize the reproductive habits of warnicorns. “Let’s go find… it.”

They abruptly came upon _it_ the second they reached the park’s car lot. On the grass in front of an SUV that probably cost as much as the Diaz home, a blonde-haired guy was throwing the mother of all fits. Screaming and crying as he pounded the grass with one hand while clutching his cheek with the other. Another kid, a little bit older and more well built, was standing over him with an uncertain look on his face. Next to them both, their chauffeur had a stiff expression trying to not break into a satisfied smile.

Turdina recognized the crying horse of a young man on the spot: Trip Vanderhoff, who he was not thrilled to run across.

Brittney Wong, head of Echo Creek Academy’s cheer squad and occasional pain in the throat, was an aggravating narcissist who ruthlessly judged people based on their wealth and popularity in relation to her own. That is to say, she treated him and everyone at the school like garbage and that they should be grateful for it. Brittney was an awful person, but Turdina would happily be locked in a room with her for two weeks rather than deal with the tragedy of affluenza that was Trip Vanderhoff.

“On second thought, let’s just go-” Turdina managed to say, before realizing Star was already walking over to him. “Star!”

Trip, still neck deep in his hysterics, clawed and ripped the grass from the ground with his free hand. “WHO DOES THAT? WHO HITS PEOPLE LIKE THAT?! WHO DID THAT GUY THINK HE WAS?! I’M TRIP VANDERHOFF, MY DAD OWNS HALF THIS CITY! YOU CAN’T HIT ME! NOBODY HITS ME!”

“Whoa, who hit you?” Star asked as she walked right up to Trip.

Seeing her, Van and the brothers’ Chauffeur threw up their hands and quickly whispered for Star to get back from the apoplectic youth. The warning was too late.

Trip looked up, and in his anger didn’t register who he was talking to. “I CAN BUY AND SELL YOU, YOU DUMB BIMBO! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”

“Ooookay?” Star said as she pulled back and leaned towards Turdina. In a whisper she asked, “Marco who is this weird horse boy?”

Turdina didn’t bother whispering. “He’s just another rich kid in LA with more money than sense, decency, and taste.”

Trip stopped his braying and stared at the both of them while his impotent rage drained out of him like water down a toilet. He was stunned, frozen in place by the vision in front of him, all of his pain and woes forgotten the moment her face registered. Even the afternoon day seemed brighter.

Both Van and the brothers’ chauffeur were silent for different reasons. They realized it was Star the moment they saw her approach, and now that Trip had told off the magical princess from another dimension, they feared that she was going to invoke a thorny doom from beneath the crust of the Earth.

Fortunately for them, dooms thorny or otherwise weren’t in the cards at all. Turdina looked from Star to Trip and raised a hand in a reassuring gesture.

“Look, sorry for walking in on whatever… _this_ is, but we’ll be going,” Turdina said.

Trip took off his glasses, and began wiping his eyes. “No, no wait… I am so sorry you had to see me like this. I am usually much better composed…”

Van and their driver both recoiled in shock. What was going on?

Turdina nonchalantly brushed it off. “It’s okay, man, we all have bad days.”

Star agreed with much more enthusiasm. “And bad days can still have good endings! You just need to smile and look on the bright side! So get on up there, wipe away your tears, and seize the rest of your day!”

“Exactly, do something that’ll take your mind off it.”

“Go play in the park, draw some rainbows,” Star listed before clenching her raised fist. _“Get revenge!”_

Turdina rested a hand over her fist and lowered it. “Turn it down just a notch.”

“Right, yeah,” Star agreed as Turdina led her off.

“I think we should go somewhere a little more isolated?” Marco suggested. “The park might not be the best place.”

Star agreed with a nod and they were gone.

Completely taken aback, all Trip could do was nod slowly as Star and Turdina walked away. Looking back, Turdina called to him. “You got this, man, don’t forget it.”

Trip watched them go, and he swore he could hear gentle, romantic soft rock in the air in the wake of the radiance that traipsed into his life and out of it again. “Yeah… okay…”

Van was at a loss for words, Trip’s temper tantrums were something only money could stop, and this one had been the worst yet. He edged closer to his brother, watching Star and Turdina leave with a doe-eyed expression, and cleared his throat quietly. When he didn’t respond, Van reached out and waved his hand in front of Trip’s face.

“Trip, uh… bro?”

“Who was she…?”

Van followed Trip’s gaze, before snapping it back to his brother. “Who…? Dude, that was the magic chick. You know, Star Butterfly?”

Trip looked up at his brother like the man was a god damned moron. “I know who _she_ is! Who was that other girl, the super hot Latina she was with?!”

That warranted a double take, Van looking in the direction Turdina and Star went then back to his brother in confusion. “Uh…?”

“God, she was cuter than Heather. I’ve never seen her around before.”

“I’m pretty sure that was the guy she lives with, Marcel or something.”

Trip refused to believe that; he had a pretty good idea of what Marcel Dios looked like, and it was nowhere near the vision of beauty that tamed his brutalized heart. “Well you’re wrong.”

“But…”

Trip got up and looked around, only to find that both the mystery girl of his dreams and Star were gone. “Marcel is what… twice as heavy and has a unibrow?”

“Perhaps she’s his sister?” Their driver helpfully offered.

Van looked at the man. “He doesn’t have a sister, Duncan… I think?”

“It’s Dudley, sir,” the chauffeur corrected.

“Whatever.”

Trip’s composure returned, not even the dull ache of his jaw bothered him now. “When I find out who she is, I’m definitely taking her to Homecoming.”

Van’s mouth fell open, his jaw hanging in shock. “Wait, what about Heather?”

Trip huffed arrogantly and shrugged his shoulders. “Old news! A bad investment not worth the money, as it turns out. If that joke Andrew is Heather’s type, I’ll just go and rub it in her face when I show up with that goddess.”

_Space Unicorn! Soaring through the Stars!_

Trip pulled his smartphone from his pocket and frowned a bit, Zoom Comics was calling him. With a click of his teeth, he answered the phone.

“Trip Vanderhoff,” he tersely said.

Roland answered. “Hey Trip. First things first, Nano says you’re banned from the shop for a month.”

Trip let out a snort. “My father owns that building, so she’s wrong. If I ever want to go into your lame comic store again–which I don’t–I will.”

“Uh huh, the second thing is? You left your Beetleborgs comic at the counter.”

That gave Trip pause, muting the phone he looked at his brother and chauffeur. “You left the comic behind, you idiots!”

Van raised his hands in his defense. “Hey, I was busy trying to back you up!”

“And a fat lot that did, doofus,” Trip snapped at him. “Great, now I have to go back there and pick it up…”

Stopping, Trip had a flash of brilliance, and his lips curled into a smile. After the morning he had? Some payback was in order, and making Heather regret her decision to pick Andrew over him was on the menu. “Or…”

He unmuted the call. “Hey Roland? I’m over at the Hillhurst Vineyard. Why don’t you bring the comic over to me and that’ll be that.”

Van looked afraid, and he quickly shook his head.

“Hillhurst? What are you doing over at that dump?”

“My Dad’s thinking about buying it and breaking into the wine game so he’s doing a survey, but that’s none of your business.”

“… Yeah, sure. I’ll be over in about half an hour.”

“Good, see you then,” Trip said before abruptly ending the call.

“Dude, we are not going to Hillhurst!” Van said in a near panic.

“Relax, relax, it’ll be fine,” Trip said with a malicious smile. “Get in the car, dear brother, I have a plan.”

As he climbed into the back seat of his ride, he smirked.

“Seize the day, indeed.”

**@@@@@**

Ending the call, Roland set down the cordless phone on the table where he the McCormicks, the Pines Twins, Misao, and Heather were gathered. They had all heard his end of the conversation and were all of different reactions. Jo was extremely suspicious, Heather aghast, Drew annoyed, Mabel and Misao curious, and Dipper even more so.

Jo folded her arms and said, “He’s up to something.”

“Totally up to something,” Drew agreed.

“What’s Hillhurst?” Mabel asked.

Heather answered her. “It’s this old abandoned mansion north of here, at the foot of the mountains.”

Dipper went from curious to interested. “Is it haunted, or something?”

Heather nodded to Dipper. _“So_ haunted. It’s got a threatening aura and everything.”

Now he wanted to see it for himself.

Nano was not a fan of the sensationalism. “All that’s up there are rumors, graffiti, and asbestos.”

“I heard a cult uses it for profane rituals to speak to evil Gods,” Drew said.

“Really?” Dipper asked.

“The Manson Family tried to move in there in the 60s and but they bailed _quick,”_ Jo said.

“Wildfires have burned through that entire hillside and not once does that place even get scorched; it’s like the fire’s afraid of it,” Roland said.

“Some people swear up and down the Black Dahlia was murdered there,” Shermie said, drawing an annoyed look from Nano.

Another customer, a girl with dark blue hair under a green hat reading a manga about spirals, spoke up. “I’ve seen monsters in the windows.”

The customer who bought the volumes of Crossed looked up from his books. “New Coke was created in the basement.”

“Truly a place of evil,” Mabel said.

Nano shook her head. “See? The only reason people are scared is because of silliness like that!”

Though she did personally believe that New Coke was made in its basement.

Roland picked up the once more sealed Beetleborgs #1. “And Trip and Van want me to come out there to give it to them.”

“It is such a setup,” Drew said in annoyance.

“Yeah, he seemed pretty composed for someone who just got his block knocked off,” Roland said with a quick glance Dipper’s way.

Heather giggled. “Maybe it got screwed back on right this time?”

“I wish I could knock that kind of sense into people,” Dipper lamented.

“I don’t!” Mabel quickly said.

Misao was curious. “So what will you do?”

“Well, he asked for it back, so I’ll go give it to him. He doesn’t have beef with me like he does Drew,” Roland said.

Jo was against that. “Alone? Remember what you said about thresholds being vast for Trip?”

“We may as well go, too,” Drew insisted.

Dipper wanted to see this spooky house, making sure Trip wasn’t up to anything stupid was a bonus. “If you want backup, I’ll come with you.”

Drew, Jo, and Roland looked at Dipper together.

“Really?” Jo asked.

“I’ve had my fair share of the stupid, petty, and rich. If they pull something stupid, I’ll let them both have it.”

Jo grinned. “You are so awesome.”

Dipper looked at her. “Huh?”

“I mean, uh, thanks for the hand, bro.” Jo looked away from Dipper and smirked. She was too smooth.

Dipper looked warily from the corner of his eye at Jo. In the back of his mind he could hear the soft, schadenfreudian chuckling of a redhead in flannel.

Mabel rose from her seat and called to Shermie. “Sherpa, can you give us a ride over there?”

“If I do that no one’s going to be at the house to meet your stuff,” Shermie said. “You kids go out and handle your business, then be home before it gets too dark, all right?”

Dipper smiled at Shermie’s explicit approval for them to head off on an adventure. “Thanks, Grandpa Shermie!”

The old man nodded affirmatively to Dipper. “And remember, if you can punch it in the schnozz? It ain’t a ghost!”

Roland, Drew, and Jo stood up next, with Roland saying to Nano, “I’m going to give Trip his book back. I’ll be back later to finish my shift.”

“G’on and don’t worry about it. I’ll clock you out and tell your Mom and Dad I had you run an errand for me,” Nano back.

That was nice to hear, Roland nodded. “Thanks Nano.”

Heather got up. “I’m going to man the café, if Trip still insists there’s anything going on between him and I? _Please_ punch him again.”

“You bet!” Dipper said as he and the others began to leave.

That reminded Drew. “Uh, Heather?”

She turned her attention to him. “Yeah, Drew?”

He wanted to ask “Were you going to ask me to the dance?” but the words jammed up tight in his throat. He couldn’t ask her about it now, not after Trip made his big publicly embarrassing play. What if she didn’t actually plan to go with him? Or if she got mad for asking.

There was no time to overthink; he took the safe route out. “… Uh… have a good rest of your shift, okay? Sorry about all of this.”

Heather found his contrition bemusing, but accepted it anyway. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Drew, but thanks.”

The two shared a smile, before Drew turned and hurried to the door. Jo was waiting just outside with a small scowl.

“Really?” She asked as Drew crossed the threshold and the two walked out to catch up with the twins, Misao, and Roland on their way to a bus stop to take them towards the Hillhurst Vineyard.

“What?” He already knew what she was on about.

“You could’ve asked her to the dance.”

“After Trip’s big stupid thing? No way.”

Jo blew out a sigh of exasperation. “You are such a wuss.”

Drew wasn’t in a mood to argue about it further. As he strode ahead of Jo, he passed along the part of the shop’s exterior with posters advertising various products–action figures, new issues of comics, and things like that. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the movie poster for the upcoming, but delayed Big Bad Beetleborgs film. In that brief instant, he saw his reflection over the armored form of Blue Beet, the Blue Stingerborg Beetleborg.

If he could be even a hundredth as heroic as the hero of the multiverse, being able to stand up to the Vanderhoffs, talking to Heather, and even asking her out would be the least of his problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we begin our final course towards destiny, as unstoppable as a raindrop falling from a cloud.


	6. The Haunted Mansion

**|The Haunted Mansion|**

Regardless of what people heard about it, the facts about Hillhurst Mansion were indisputable. Built in the late 1890s by the good Dr. Hillhurst, a surgeon with a history questionable–if not outright unethical–practices; he called the Victorian-style mansion his home and office until the dawn of Hollywood’s Golden Age. Following his death, with no wife, children or distant family to claim it, and the eerie rumors that surrounded him, the mansion was left to time.

The land around the house became part of a Vineyard that struggled through the decades, only going out of business at the turn of the century. The overgrown vines and grasses around the building covered in cracked, peeling paint with dirty and broken windows, added to its dilapidated, menacing presence. It was a foreboding place just to look at from the outside, who knew what laid inside?

Van Vanderhoff was nervous because Trip’s plan suggested that he or both of them would be finding out.

As Roland, Drew, and Jo came into view, riding their bicycles, Trip was practically ecstatic to see them.

“Just like I knew they would,” he said aloud to his brother.

Van audibly swallowed and pursed his lips together to quell his anxiety, and found it lacking. “I don’t like this idea, bro.”

“Relax, it’ll be hilarious,” Trip quietly promised his brother as the three friends walked up to them.

Drew scowled as he saw the Vanderhoff brothers as he got off his bike, while Jo glanced back surreptitiously towards the vineyard. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but nothing could be taken at face value with these two.

Vast thresholds and all that.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” Roland said stiffly.

In as business-like a tone he could muster, Trip agreed, “I hope you have it?”

Roland schooled his expression and nodded to Trip. “It’s your property, I don’t want to hold onto it anymore than I have to–even if it is an ultra-rare number 1.”

Swinging his backpack off his shoulder, Roland unzipped it to pull out the Big Bad Beetleborgs #1 in a clear plastic protective binder. Drew sighed longingly at the sight of the book, before averting his eyes–in case Trip tried to destroy it.

In no hurry to look weak in front of the nerds, Van shored up his bravado and puffed out his chest. “So what are you going to do with it?”

Trip held up the comic and examined it. “Since I’d bought it for nothing, and _definitely_ don’t need it anymore…”

He lowered it and smiled at Drew. “I’m going to let you have it, Andrew.”

Drew, Jo, and Roland were understandably taken off-guard by Trip’s abrupt gesture. “What?!”

Trip weighed the plastic-sealed comic in his hands, as he crunched numbers in his head. “All this amounts to is two weeks of allowance wasted, and since I still care about fair Heather I don’t mind parting with it so Andrew can give her something nice.”

Jo shot to the point ahead of Drew and Roland. “What’s the catch? What do you want for it?”

“What could I possibly want from _you?”_ Disgust dripped from Trip’s words, the very idea that they could give him anything he wanted offending him.

“My suffering?” Drew asked.

“His anguish?” Roland asked.

“His misery?” Jo asked.

Those _were_ actually things he’d want, and get all in due time. “Ah, you three can be so amusing. No, I’m giving it to you and it’s completely yours… if you can get it.”

Drew grew tense. “Get it?”

Turning around, Trip cocked back and let the comic fly like a frisbee, sending it careening into an open second floor window of Hillhurst Mansion. Agape, Drew stared at the window the flung comic had gone into, before his gaze fell on Trip again. Trip stepped aside a bit, presenting Drew a path to the front door of Hillhurst.

Drew stared at Trip, up at the house, back to Trip, back to the house, back to Trip again, and finally back at the window. He couldn’t believe it.

“You’re seriously going to let me have that two million dollar comic,” he asked the millionaire baby.

Trip nodded.

“One of the rarest in the world. To keep. With no other strings attached.”

“That’s right.

“And all I have to do is go into the vacant mansion with who knows what inside to get it.”

Trip gestured to his chauffeur. “As Van and Douglas as my witness.”

“Dudley, sir.”

Drew turned back to Jo and Roland, seeking some kind of guidance, but they were gone. Turning back to Trip and Van, he saw his sister and best friend were waiting past them on the porch by the slightly ajar front door.

“Hey, he said you can have it if you can get it,” Jo said.

“So let’s get it,” Roland said as he pulled the door open.

Drew brightened and nodded to Trip. “Thanks for the comic, Vanderhoff!”

He bolted after them and up the steps to the front door. Coming to a stop, he, Jo, and Roland looked into the dusty, dimly lit interior of Hillhurst Mansion, the interior wreathed in cobwebs and crawling with who knew what. It was just an old abandoned house, he told himself, as he pulled out his smartphone, turned on its camera light, and crossed the threshold.

“You’d better not try anything Vanderhoff, or you’ll pay!” Jo snapped at Trip before she followed her brother in. Roland pointed at his eyes and then at Trip as he brought up the rear.

“I’ll be right out here,” Trip assured them in return. Soon as the door swung shut, he leaned towards Van. “Block the door and I’ll meet you ‘round the back.”

Reluctantly, Van did as told, while Trip headed around to the back of the house with their Chauffeur following.

“Okay, we’ll keep it simple so we don’t spend too long here,” Drew said to Jo and Roland as they crossed the garbage strewn and dusty living room of the mansion.

Roland nodded. “Yeah, the longer I stay here, the worse I know my allergies are gonna be.”

“We just run upstairs, grab the book, and bolt.”

Drew reached the bottom of the curving staircase to the overlooking second floor balcony. There was more light than he thought, and so he put away his phone and its light… but left the camera running just in case to record audio.

Jo looked at the finely carved wood railing covered in dust leading up the carpet-covered stairs. She scanned the room with a hum; despite the house being old and dirty with a few bits of garbage blown in through the open front door… the house wasn’t in a deplorable state.

“You’d think this place would be… worse than it is.”

Roland agreed. “Yeah, this place hasn’t had people living in it for over 80 years, you think it’d be…”

“Rotting?” Drew asked as they walked up the stairs.

“Nothing rots in Los Angeles,” Jo said, “ But 80 years is a long time for this place to never have been ransacked.”

As he reached the second floor Drew saw what they meant. A tall suit of armor, caked in dust but otherwise intact, stood guard against the wall opposite the top of the stairs. All it needed was some polishing and it’d be good as new. Much of the house they’d seen so far, he realized, was the same way–dirty but undisturbed.

“That is weird.” He said as he and the others continued.

Passing a partially open door, Jo glanced inside and slowed down to take the knob and pull it open.

Inside were untouched boxes full of stuff dating back all the way to the 1920s. Cobweb covered boxes of old medical instruments, wooden toys, and what looked like old office equipment were stacked near the back wall, and just beyond them an open box with an Egyptian Mummy that looked like it came from a movie set leaned against the wall. It stared back at her, body wrapped up in tattered old cloth strips, its skin and face desiccated and gray with brown, worn down teeth pulled into a rictus of death.

Jo stared at the Mummy and shivered before turning towards Drew and Roland. “Seriously, none of this junk probably hasn’t been moved since it got dumped here. With all the hipsters living around, this place should’ve been picked clean.”

She left the door and followed Drew and Roland down the balcony and into the hallway towards the rooms facing the front of the house. There were two doors, one was slightly ajar and the other was tightly closed.

“Which door?” Roland asked.

Drew went to the closed door and turned the knob, the mechanism turning with a loud, rusty “kerchak” after a bit of effort. “Check the other room.”

Jo stacked up with her brother as he slowly pushed open the door with a loud creaking from its hinges. A bedroom with sheet covered furniture and no open windows greeted them. From the first glance alone, it was obvious that the comic wasn’t here.

“Nothing but more junk,” Jo crassly muttered.

In the next room, a roughly L-shaped bedroom that extended along the side of the house Roland found the open window but no comic in sight. It was another bedroom, with sheet covered furniture and a dingy old Afghan rug on the floor. Shaking his head in dismissal, he turned around to face the door.

He stopped.

Standing in the back of the room, around the corner of the door and thus out of sight, was an abomination of a man wearing a dirty brown suit-jacket over a lighter brown turtleneck sweater. He had a large, squarish head with a bulging forehead and crown covered in obvious surgical scars and staples–and was reading the front cover of the sealed comic like he was trying to decipher the mysteries of the universe on it. Frozen in fear, Roland’s mouth fell open but no sound came out of it… his mind locked up trying to process what he was face to face with.

As Jo stepped out the door ahead of Drew, shaking her head dismissively, a dried out, cloth-wrapped hand with long gnarly nails grabbed the strap of her overalls and yanked her from Drew to face the same Mummy that she’d written off as a bizarre prop, its one good blue eyes scowling maliciously from its left eye socket back at her.

“Where do you get off, breaking into somebody’s house and calling it junk?!” The male Mummy yelled at her with a harsh voice.

Jo, and the equally surprised Drew behind her, answered the reasonable question with terrified screaming.

In the other room, the sudden shouting and screaming startled the disfigured monster, causing the comic to flip out of his hands and glide to the floor and land on Roland’s foot. Looking at the young man, the monster man himself screamed in surprise.

Roland answered the scream in kind, but his brain found the throttle and he _moved,_ grabbing up the comic and bolting out the door as the monster man lunged for him. He barreled out the door and down took a turn down the narrow hall leading towards the back of the house. In his wake, Jo twisted herself free of the Mummy’s grip with Drew’s help and both scrambled from him and the monster man coming from the other room.

“You two really stepped in it now!” The Mummy said before the McCormick siblings bolted. “Hey! Frankie! Get ‘em before they get away!”

The man monster let out a slow-toned grunt and lurched after them with arm’s outstretched and his large fingers clawing at the air.

**@@@@@**

In the vineyard, as Van blocked the door with some old cinderblocks, Dipper peeked up over one of the unruly rows of overgrown trellises. Misao came up next, perched upon Mabel’s shoulders, holding her smartphone with the camera pointed towards the house.

“They just went inside?” Mabel asked.

“For a two million dollar comic, I would,” Dipper admitted.

Misao hummed. “They blocked the door. What is their plan?”

“Probably to scare the bejewels out of them,” Mabel said.

“Yeah,” Dipper called Roland’s phone, “I’ll let them know.”

Unfortunately the call dropped as soon as he made it. “Huh?”

He tried again, and the call dropped. “Crap, there’s no reception here.”

Just to their right, a girl with a low, detached voice spoke. “Well duh, why would there be any reception near a house full of monsters?”

The three looked over at the girl, crouched down and peering through a hole she cleared in the grapevines with her hands. All of them recognized her: the girl who claimed she’d seen monsters in the windows of the mansion.

“Uhh…?” Dipper began.

Mabel did as Mabel does. “Hi, I’m Mabel, this is my brother Dipper and the girl up top is Misao.”

“Hallo,” Misao greeted.

She looked up at Mabel, then at Misao perched comfortably on her shoulders. “I’m Janna, and you’ve got a strong back.”

“Why’d you follow us?” Dipper asked.

“Because nobody listened when I said there were monsters in the house,” she answered as she pulled out a pair of binoculars from her seafoam green jacket and looked through them at the house. “Normally I’d leave it at that, but you punched Trip and made him cry like a horse; so you’re cool.”

“You’re batting a thousand,” Mabel teased Dipper.

Dipper rolled his eyes, it wasn’t like he was going out of his way to talk to no one but girls. “Wait, are there really monsters in the house?”

Janna nodded. “Yeah, me and some fellow weirdos tried to B&E the place last week, but this disfigured monster guy broke the window trying to get at us.”

She handed Dipper her binoculars and pointed. “Look on the front porch, see where the window’s broken?”

Dipper raised the binoculars and looked. Sure enough, there was a shattered part of the window like someone had punched through it.

“Whatever it was spotted us while we were trying to get in through the front and it flipped out on us just as we got the lock popped. We bolted and ran until we were halfway back to town.”

In disappointment she added, “We couldn’t even get our foot in the door, it was such a drag.”

“Well,” Misao said, “No one’s screaming, so maybe they haven’t-”

Drew, Jo, and Roland’s screaming could be heard all the way out where they were in the vineyard.

“Verdammt!” Misao swore in alarm.

“Well, they’re being murdered,” Janna said casually before Dipper dropped her binoculars and bolted.

“Mabel, let’s go!” Dipper ordered as he tossed his phone to Misao.

Janna called after him. “Try not to get eaten. I think we have some chemistry going, here.”

Mabel let Misao down off her shoulders; the smaller girl looked at Janna, then back to the twins. “Don’t worry, we’ve dealt with worse than a monster in an old house.”

“We’re only getting them all out of there,” Dipper said before he broke into a sprint for the house, “Stay here and if anything looks too weird, call Shermie!”

“He’ll save us,” Mabel assured them, before adding, “Or clean up.”

“I understand!” Misao called after them. “Be careful!”

As they bolted towards the house, Janna turned to Misao. “So–you’re the FaithfulPony371, aren’t you?”

Pleasantly surprised, Misao nodded to Janna. “You’re the first person to recognize me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is starting to become the most eventful first day in any town Dipper and Mabel have ever been to.


	7. They did what resembles but is legally distinct from the Monster Mash

**|They did what resembles but is legally distinct from The Monster Mash|**

After they had secured the door and went around to the back of the house, Trip and Van let themselves into the backdoor of the mansion and found themselves in its kitchen. Much like the rest of the house it was in complete disuse, caked with grime and spiderwebs, but otherwise unused for a long time. The kitchen’s old icebox sat in a corner next to the stove, and the cabinets and doors of both were open, nothing but the faint a few scraps of dried food and vermin.

As Van turned to his brother, he swore he saw a rat scurry across a countertop near where pots and pans were stacked by the sink, and shuddered.

“I really don’t like this place,” he admitted to his brother. “It’s so dusty and I feel like I’m trapped in a box.”

Trip looked around, sure it was old and stale, but this place was anything but cramped. In fact, the place was bigger inside than it looked from the outside. “You’re freaking out man, calm down. This is going to be awesome, trust me.”

He reached into the bag, pulling out some monster masks and heavy duty flashlights. “Now that the dork brigade is locked inside, we’re gonna put on these masks and bust in on them waving these LED flashlights in their eyes. When they freak out and run screaming, we chase them out the back and Dudley films the looks on their faces.”

Van reluctantly grabbed a mask and slipped it on his head without pulling it down. “Yeah, but what if they fight back?”

“Then we beat the snot out of them with the flashlights. It’s just a prank, bro. If they attack us, then we have the right to defend ourselves.”

Even he was smart enough to see that Trip was hoping for that to happen, and honestly? He wouldn’t mind cracking some skulls after that tree guy embarrassed him. It’d be a great warmup for round two against him, even… if it weren’t for the fact they were doing this in a creepy haunted house where he heard monsters lived.

Sensing his brother’s unease, Trip grew annoyed. “Why? Are you chickening out on me?”

Van Vanderhoff was not a chicken. “No! I was just saying–we should just jump them and beat them up.”

Trip bought the bluff. “You know, maybe you’re right. Come on, I think there’s some back stairs we can use to sneak up on-”

“Vat do you mean I have to change my name?”

The muffled voice with a heavy Eastern European accent caught both brothers off guard. They froze, looking at each other before eyeing the source of the sound–a door in the hallway leading from the kitchen.

“Orders from up top; I’m just going through the list of everyone who is using some ‘clever name nonsense’ and informing them that they have to change their names within three weeks of this call.”

The very black and sassy voice that replied sounded more like something they’d hear at a Rodeo Drive hair salon.

“But I like my name, I chose it myself.”

“Listen gurlfriend: I loved the name I chose when I was turned too, but _nobody_ was down with Lord Sparklebottom, so I changed it. You can, too!”

The Vanderhoff boys shared another confused look, and Trip looked at the doorknob. Grabbing it, he swung it open–revealing a startlingly pale, black-haired man in his mid 20s dressed in a black tuxedo with a flamboyant red vest and yellow shirt underneath. He was sitting on a stool, talking to what appeared to be a magic mirror of some kind, or had been until the door opened and he turned to look at them.

In the mirror, a dark-skinned androgyne with a high crew-cut and wearing a pink shirt was leaning in their chair, clearly trying to see what the pale man on the stool was looking at and coming up short. “Wait, who that?”

The pale man held up his hand to the magic mirror. “I will have to call you back. My lunch just arrived.”

Trip and Van’s confusion was replaced with terror as the man smiled bigger than any normal human should be able to, revealing a mouth full of sharply pointed teeth while his eyes turned from a wispy gray to a frightening crimson.

“Gurl, go on and get it!”

With a boiling hiss the monstrous man lunged, and a screaming Trip slammed the door in his face.

“GAH! OW!” The creature yelled. Trip and Van didn’t hear it, the boys were running for their lives towards the front of the house, hollering as loudly as they could.

One floor up, Drew, Jo, and Roland thundered down the hallway with the mummy and his monstrous buddy trailing behind them. Their flight came to an end with the hall, which split in two different directions… for a lot further down than the house obviously went. The three looked back and forth, momentarily befuddled by the strange interior dimensions of the house, before the grunting and growling behind them brought the terror right back.

“This way!” Drew said as he went left, and his sister and best friend followed him.

“Hey, can you not run so fast?! My rigamortis is acting up!”” The Mummy yelled as they dipped around the corner.

Reaching the intersection only to see the herd of brats already opening up their lead, The Mummy groaned and threw up his hands in frustration. “Come on! You brats are supposed to be slow and constantly looking over your shoulders! That’s how the monsters keep up with you!”

Screams from downstairs caught the Mummy’s attention. “Oh, great, it’s an infestation!”

Red energy crackled over his hands and he grabbed the man monster’s head. “Okay Frankenbeans, we gotta go all out if we want to get rid of these brats. Just like with those hippies!”

“Rrr… yeah!” The man monster said before the energy from the Mummy’s head jolted his body like a violent electric shock.

“There, a little more brain power to work with. Don’t use it all at once, I’m gonna go deal with the others,” The Mummy instructed.

Bringing a hand to his chin, Frankenbeans as he was called spoke with a clearer and more refined tone, dialect, and vernacular. “Quite, I shall make haste. Good luck with your own quarry, Mums. Tallyho!”

“What did I just say?!” Mums shouted as Frankenbeans sprinted off. “Oh, whatever, better go get those other brats under wraps.”

He paused for a moment. “Hah, wraps.”

He turned and hurried back to the lobby as fast as his undead bones could take him. Reaching the balcony, he leaped over the railing and landed with a thud and the rattling of his bones under his wraps and leathery skin. He could hear the thundering footsteps of the other kids coming from the back of the house towards the front. Once they tore through the door, he’d be all over them.

“All right you brats, it’s time to face the wrath of the Mummy’s Cur-!”

At that moment, the front door directly behind him all exploded off its hinges, sending it crashing into Mums’ back and launching him across the room. The undead creature was pitched into a lounge seat and went over it, as Dipper and Mabel walked in.

“Those Taekwondo lessons finally paid for themselves,” Dipper complimented his sister.

“I vow to only use my terrible powers for good,” Mabel promised her brother.

Dipper looked around the living room, quickly making the same observation Drew and the others had. This place was obviously occupied by someone who cared enough to keep the house intact, but definitely not someone who could keep it clean.

“There’s definitely something here,” he said.

Mabel wrinkled her nose. “This house needs a makeover, pronto. It smells like old jerky and dirty blankets.”

Rapid thumping preceded Van and Trip spilling out through the door. Van throwing his flashlight back down the hallway they came from as Trip scrambled past Dipper and Mabel to bolt out the open door.

“Darren get us out of here!” Trip shrieked.

Van hardly noticed the Pines either, running out the door and hollering at the top of his lungs.

The twins watched them go, before the door swung open again. The man who chased them emerged, his well styled hair out of place, his eyes glowing red with fury, and his mouth filled with razor sharp teeth he was dying to sink into something. Gazing upon the two, he grinned as he found just that.

“Good day to you, morsels~” He greeted hauntingly.

“VAMPIRE!” Mabel shouted, and Dipper whipped a handful of pennies onto the floor at the monster’s feet.

The vampire stopped, looked down at the pennies, and back up at the two. The red in his eyes receded and his teeth became less threatening, but his mouth turned down into an indignant sneer.

“Now why did you go and do that?!” He looked down at the pennies. “There has to be at least what… a hundred fifty, two hundred pennies there?!”

Dipper gestured at the pennies. “Why don’t you count to be sure?”

The vampire gestured theatrically. “I will, but when I’m done, I’m devouring you both!”

Falling to his hands and knees, the vampire began gathering up the pennies, audibly counting them one by one. Taking the opportunity, Dipper and Mabel quietly edged around him and headed for the stairs.

“Okay, so there’s a vampire in the house,” Dipper said as he led Mabel up the stairs, “Hopefully we’ll find Roland and his friends before any others get them.”

As the Vampire studiously counted each penny, organizing them by date stamped and cleanliness, Mums pulled himself up from behind the couch and shook the cobwebs out of his head. He looked down at the vampire, and threw his hands up in disbelief.

“Fangula. What. Are. You. Doing?!”

“I am counting these carelessly spilled coins,” Fangula replied.

“Stop that! There are trespassers!”

Fangula shot up and pointed at him. “Don’t you dare! You know how important this is to me!”

“More important than the brats turning the house upside down?!”

“We can eat them later, I’m busy!” Fangula went back to his penny counting and stopped. “Wait, is this a copper ‘43?!”

The vampire examined it closely, eyes gleaming red. “Oh, no, just an altered ‘45.”

Mums palmed his dessicated face. “Set, please give me strength.”

Back upstairs, Drew, Jo, and Roland reached the end of another corridor and once again found themselves looking left and right down very long corridors. This was impossible, there was no way the house was this big.

“What’s going on? This doesn’t make any sense!” Jo said, her voice tight with fear.

“Yeah, this is too weird,” Roland said as he looked at Drew.

Drew looked to the left again. “If we keep turning left, then we’ll have to come back to where we started!”

“How can we even be sure of that?!” Roland asked.

The heavy iron thuds of Frankenbeans behind them eliminated the luxury of second guessing. Grabbing Jo by her hand, Drew fled around the corner and Roland followed.

“Run all you like, spirited children, but I will have you yet!” The man monster called after them.

Roland looked back, that guy didn’t seem all that articulate before.

“If I must chase you to the ends of this house, I will capture you!”

And he was gaining, too. It didn’t look like Drew’s plan was going to pan out. Roland looked at him again.

“Drew, we can’t outrun him!”

“I know!” Drew gasped back.

“I don’t want to die!” Jo shouted.

“We won’t!” But Drew was going to be a liar if something didn’t change.

A door up ahead offered salvation and he cut left, grabbing the handle and shoving it open to allow Roland and Jo to enter. Slipping in behind them, he swung it closed and turned the lock. They were in another bedroom, furnished with a large bed, a dresser, an armoire, and a loveseat.

Not a second sooner there was a bang as Frankenbeans struck the door, followed by an urgent pounding.

“I say! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll open this door right now!”

“We have a firm grasp on what’s good for us, thanks!” Drew called as he and Jo pushed a dresser in front of the door.

Roland shoved the loveseat up against it, and the banging on the door grew louder.

“I would be rather dismayed to have to break this door down!” Frankenbeans offered. “If you behave, I can assure at least one of you will live. Sure, you’ll probably end up our pet, but it wouldn’t be a bad life. You’ll quite like it.”

“Ew, no!” Jo shouted.

Drew had gone over to the armoire and began to move it, but despite his best efforts it wouldn’t budge. “Huh?”

Roland came to his side. “What is it?”

Drew began shoving it, to no avail. “It’s stuck! Like it’s attached to the wall or something…”

He opened the door and gave pause. He, Jo, and Roland all stared into the armoire, and the secret slide that lay beyond a moved false back of the furniture.

“I am afraid you have given me no recourse. En garde, lads and lass!”

Sharing another look, all three came to an agreement and bolted into the armoire, Drew shutting the doors behind them a split second before the door and the furniture they stacked in front of it exploded from the sheer strength of Frankenbeans’ shoulder barge into it. Splinters scattered across the room like deady wooden blades–embedding in the bed, the walls, and the Armoire itself.

“I suppose Mums and Fangula will have to settle for ghoulash…?” The man monster stopped and looked around the room before he could chuckle at his own pun. Instead of eviscerated victims, he found only a ruined bedroom and not even a scrap of his quarry.

“Blimey,” he said, his accent shifting from refinement to a more casual vernacular. “Where’d they bloody go?”

Down. The slide, made of polished stainless steel, was practically frictionless so Roland, Jo, and then Drew went hurtling at high speed down the dark, winding chute. Cobwebs, scattering rodents, and even a few bats passed them as they descended, picking up more and more speed, until the slide suddenly leveled off and they came out in a room filled with stale, but breathable air.

“Great,” Jo gasped as she finally caught her breath, “Where are we now?”

“As long as we don’t have to run into another monster, I’d be fine with being in the septic tank,” Roland admitted.

“I would rather be monster chow.”

Roland sighed. “You’d end up there anyway.”

In a moment of bleak humor, Jo managed a laugh. “Gross.”

Roland began laughing too, Drew joining in for a few merry moments, before they slowly got up and looked around the room they had entered. It was a large, windowless, but comfortable room that was much cleaner than anywhere in the house they’d seen so far. No cobwebs, no strewn garbage, not even a speck of dust covered the couches, cushions, tables, or the main feature of the room–a polished gleaming pipe organ set into the back wall of the house.

Drew, Jo, and Roland stared up at the massive instrument in awe of it–more than they felt they should, but they were unable to help themselves.

They could feel the tremendous power radiating from it.

**@@@@@**

Outside, Trip and Van were falling over each other to get inside the SUV. Trip grabbed the door and yanked on it, only to cry out when it didn’t open. “DARIUS! LET US IN!”

Van grabbed his brother and threw him aside as he pounded on the glass. “Hurry, they’re gonna kill us!”

Dudley, who had been doing as told and lying in wait to film the McCormicks and Roland, chose not to immediately act. Because his name was Dudley.

“Dustin! Where are you?!” Trip yelled.

Likely checked into a hotel, Dudley thought.

“Davis! Derrick! Dorian!! Come on, I know one of them is your name! I want to go home! I want my Mom!”

“Your Mom’s in Reno, Van!” Trip said as he began pounding on the glass of the passenger door to break it.

Moments like these honestly made this vile, thankless job worth it. Peering past the SUV and his young charges, Dudley could see two young women peeking from the old vineyard, filming every moment with their phones.

Yes, Dudley quite liked his job, and the pay wasn’t too bad either.

Alas, if he allowed his young masters to break the windows of the car, the repairs would come from that pay. Lamenting the end to the nicest day on his job so far, Dudley pressed the unlock button on his remote and walked over to assist Trip and Van in leaving this place.

“If I didn’t avoid social media like the plague, I’d be posting this everywhere,” Janna said as she kept filming the panicking boys.

Misao, who did not avoid social media like the plague, was posting it everywhere–using burner accounts. “I’ve got you.”

This pleased Janna Ordonia. “Today keeps getting better.”

“All it needs to be perfect is for none of my new friends to die.” Misao finished posting the video places and checked the time. “They’ve been in there for a while, now.”

“They’ll be fine; did you see that girl’s kick? I wish I could break down doors like that… I have to go through windows or pick locks.”

“If nothing happens in the next five minutes, I’m going to call their Grandfather.”

A strange, magical sound caught Misao and Janna’s attention, and they looked to their left towards the far edge of the vineyard–just in time to see a green flash of light and a puff of smoke. Another flash followed, and Janna’s eyes lit up.

“Or you might not have to,” she said as she got up.

“What is that?” Misao asked, concerned by the lights.

“Heavy artillery. Hold down the fort, shortstack. I’m gonna go grab it.”

Misao watched Janna go, and looked back towards the house. “She’s nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, leave a comment and kudos if you like this.


	8. Too Deep

**|Too Deep|**

A hill away from Hillhurst, Star stewed in irritation as she aimed her wand at a can of creamed corn sitting on top of a stump. The can, the stump, and the grass around it were covered in the green glitter sludge she and Marco spent the entire morning cleaning up. Aside from the one successful use of Radiant Shadow Transform that turned Marco into Princess Turdina, it still hasn’t worked. Even her spells selflessly devoted to the smash face club were screwing up.

“Laser Beam Blast!”

A stream of glittery sludge erupted from her wand, splattering all over the stump and the can without so much as rocking it. Frowning, Star twirled around in place and pointed the wand at the can again.

“Shooting Star Explosion!”

Green fart sounds came from the wand, as it fired a trio of sickly green stars that landed with wet plops around the stump and bubbled instead of exploding. Grimacing, Star gripped her wand tighter. “Come. On!”

She jumped, twirled through the air, and landed on the ground.

“MEGA NARWHAL BLAST!”

What came out of the wand is best left unwritten, but it even made Star sick to look at it. Turdina had to turn away and run to a bush in order to retch. Fortunately the _thing_ dissolved into glittery sludge by the time he was done.

“Star, there’s something seriously up,” he said as he wiped his mouth. “Call your Mom.”

“Ugh, I already called her once today! If I call her again she’s going to be all ‘Your wand isn’t working? I never had a problem with my wand. Blah blah blah blah blah!’”

She pointed her wand at the can again. “Maybe it just needs to finish firing all this green gunk and it’ll work normally again.”

Turdina took Star by the shoulder. “Please, no more. My stomach doesn’t have anything left to give.”

Star scoffed loudly and threw her hands to the air. “Then what am I supposed to do, Marco?! If I can’t cast magic with my wand, then what?”

“I don’t know, you were able to unlock your closet without your wand. Maybe you can cast other spells without it?”

Star groaned and she gestured emphatically towards the can. “Ugh, and what? Just point my hand, dip down, and yell ‘Rainbow Blast?!’”

Her cheek marks lit up and a solid ray of rainbow light leapt from her hands to obliterate the corn and punch a hole into the side of the hill behind it.

Turdina and Star slowly looked downrange at her shot. Almost all of the can was gone except for its bottom and a few sizzling remains of badly burnt creamed corn. The hole in the hill past it was also sizzling, the loose dirt scorched into black, chunky glass. Star looked at her hand, the corn, the hole, then finally to Turdina.

“Whoaaaa…” She said slowly as she held up her hand to Turdina’s face. “I have laser hands.”

Turdina quickly took her arm and directed it away lest a spell got fired off. “Yeah, watch where you point them!”

“Oh, sorry! I wasn’t going to cast a spell! I’ve just… wow… dipping down is an entirely different thing from using my wand! It took all morning for me to figure it out and now I just _thought about it_ and whoosh!”

Star looked at her hands and grinned. “I don’t even need my wand anymore! I can just cast my spells…”

Turdina did not like the manic gleam in her eyes. “Star, wait!”

Tossing her wand to Marco, she raised her hands above her head and power crackled from them.

“… Like this! NARWHAL BLAST!”

A barrage of narwhals shot from her hands and rammed into the side of the hill. Except unlike her usual incarnation of the spell, these were full sized magical narwhals–almost 20 feet long and weighing nearly 2 tons–smashing into the hill with the force to form craters.

Turdina stopped and watched in awe of the sheer damage as Star jumped up and around, the magic flowing from her hands leaving trails of rainbows, butterflies, and stars behind her. Twirling through the air, she pointed her palms at the stump the can of cream corn had been set on.

“Rolling Thunder Lightning Blast!”

A stream of blue electrical energy struck the stump , vaporizing it completely. Turdina had to shield her eyes from the sheer luminosity, grimacing.

“Whoa, Star tone it down!”

Her cry went unheeded as Star landed, spun and aimed her hands at the hill face again. Her cheek marks and eyes were glowing brightly.

“STARDUST DAISY DEVASTATION!”

The beam of yellow light struck the dry grass-covered hill, and the backwash from the beam turned the brown grass green and bloomed a carpet of canary yellow daisies over it.

“This is so cool!” With a manic laugh, Star thrust her hands outward to her sides with magic bolting across her body. Charging up, she brought her hands together, pointed at the hill as the power rippled outward from her in waves. Turdina, realizing that this was going to be bad, ducked and covered.

“THERMONUCLEAR BUTTERFLY BLA-ugh?”

Abruptly all the magic left her hands, and the light left her cheek marks and eyes. “Uh… uwahpapapa…”

Fatigue washed over Star, and she unceremoniously fell forward.

Turdina, alarmed, rushed to her. “STAR!”

As darkness claimed her, she didn't even feel herself hitting the ground, all she could hear was Turdina calling her name in fear, his voice echoing in a pitch black lit only by firefly-like lights that drifted upward.

_Ria eht hguorht pu gnisir_

Pretty fireflies… glowing in the dark.

_Satiloc fo llems mraw_

She wanted to touch one.

_Riah ym ni dniw looc yawhgih tresed krad a no_

And that other thing, a large vaguely humanoid shape barely lighter than the darkness, hunched over with a broad set of antlers sticking from its disfigured, lupine head. It shuddered quietly as it turned towards and looked at her with eyes blacker than the darkness surrounding her. That was weird.

_ratS…? ratS…?_

It was gone. The fireflies were going away too. She wished she could wave goodbye to them.

_“Star? Star!”_

She opened her eyes, and looked up at Turdina’s worried face. He was looking over her, as her head rested across his lap.

“Hey Marcooooo…” She said with a tired, upbeat tone. “… I think I dipped too far down.”

Turdina sighed in relief. “You totally overdid it.”

Star closed her eyes. “But that was only… what? Four? Five spells?”

Turdina stroked her hair, that was barely what Star used to get going in the morning. There had to be another way, then. He looked at her hands, steam still rising from them.

“We can forget about wandless magic.”

Star smiled a bit.

“It is called _‘The Hard Way.’”_

Turdina chuckled and held her wand up. “Do you want to go back to using your wand?”

“I don’t have a choice, Marco. If I dip, I’m bound to trip, and I don’t wanna RIP.”

He rested it on her stomach, and she gratefully took it in her hands. Looking around, she could see that the daisies she conjured up were still there, filling the air with their fragrance. She looked up at Turdina, whose eyes were closed as he breathed in the pleasant smell of the flowers. Star smiled, and settled her head onto Turdina’s lap.

“Maybe that’s why even when they could dip, every Queen of Mewni used the wand to skim.”

“Yeah. Sorry that this hasn’t worked out.”

“That’s okay, even if everything goes wrong, at least you’re here.”

Star could stay like this all day, relaxing in a field of flowers with her best friend in the whole world. Her head right here on his lap, just the two of them alone with no one around for miles. She looked up at Turdina, thinking about all the things she liked about him–from his cool karate to his awesome nachos, to his cute lil’ mole… Turdina… Marco was just the best at being her friend. He was even better than Pony Head, but that was between her and her journal.

Making herself comfortable, she looked up at him and asked, “Did you know my Mom couldn’t dip down until she was 19? “

Turdina laughed. “Really?”

“That’s so _old,_ it’s almost _20.”_

“You must be advanced.”

“I know, right? Mom didn’t even sound all that enthusiastic about it when I said it.”

“She was probably jealous.”

_“She’s so jealous.”_ Star grinned ear to ear, and let out a content sigh.

Opening his eyes, Turdina looked down and met Star’s gaze. From their first fight together, Star was his best friend, and the number one person he’d ever let have his back in a fight. Moments like these, though, where anything but a fight was going on? He’d take this over him and Star battling a million monsters and winning.

They held each other’s gazes, everything lighter and brighter thanks to the sun shining off the blanket of daisies all around them.

“Hey,” he said, feeling really warm and comfortable all of a sudden.

Star was feeling every bit as comfortable as she answered back. “… Hey.”

“You know, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” Turdina said.

“I’m not too sure,” Star replied, “You’ve looked in a mirror before, right?”

He blushed as Star hit him back just as hard with the good vibes and looked away for a brief moment. When he looked back, she was still staring at him with that beatific smile that he couldn’t get enough of.

She really was amazing.

He leaned down towards her, only to hesitate when her eyes widened slightly. The two of them stared at each other, before he continued downward Star shifted in position and lifted her head up to meet him slowly.

“Nice hair, Marco.”

Turdina’s head shot back up, and the moment was gone forever as he shouted at the source of their interruption. “Janna!”

Star sat up, smiling brightly. “Oh, hi Janna!”

Standing at the top of the hill between them and Hillhurst, Janna smiled slyly at Turdina and Star before she slid down into the field of daisies and used her momentum to lope over to the two of them.

“I didn’t think you’d be all the way out here, but I can think of worse places for making magic happen, _right?”_

A blush swept across Turdina’s face like wildfire. “That is… we were! Star’s wand!”

He grabbed Star’s wand and shoved it in Janna’s face. “Yes, we were fixing her wand!”

Janna stared at it. “There’s something wrong with it?”

Star got up and took it. “Yeah, it’s been shooting this weird green gunk all day.”

She pointed her wand at the face of the hill.

“Rainbow Blast!”

Instead of a sick green beam, however, a stream of rainbow energy shot out of the wand and hit the hill. Star and Turdina both stared at the wand.

Janna looked at it as well. “Huh, it looks fine to me. Which is good because some guys over at the creepy house over the hill are gonna get eaten by monsters.”

Star grew alert. “What monsters?”

“What are you talking about?” Turdina asked, just before the sky suddenly grew very dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something to get the Shipper's motors runnin'.


	9. Flib Flab

**|Flib Flab|**

Dipper knew something was up, and he was starting to like it. This house was way bigger on the inside than it looked, impossibly so. It reminded him of the Mystery Shack, and its confounding dimensions that he didn’t think much of because he was living in it. The hallway he and Mabel walked down had to be over a hundred yards in length, lit by white-curtain windows to their right and decorated with creepy old watercolor paintings to their left.

“Even if there weren’t monsters in the house, this is an amazing place. There’s clearly some kind of extra-dimensional force in effect, it might even be magical.”

And it definitely predated Star’s arrival, too. What a first day in town, it took over a week for Dipper and Mabel to run into the gnomes back in Gravity Falls!

On that note, Dipper really wished he had his journal right now. “Gosh, there’s so much to write down!”

Mabel flicked Dipper’s ear. “Lives are at stake.”

That pulled Dipper from his weirdness-induced euphoria. He rubbed at his ear as he flushed slightly.

“Ow, right! Sorry about that, I just got so excited that I-”

Mabel pointed ahead. “Also, there’s a monster.”

Dipper looked forward, there was Frankenbeans, marching straight towards them with his arms stretched forward.

“Oi, 'oo do ya fin' ya're? comin' in’o me ‘ouse?” The monster demanded.

Mabel gasped, thrilled by his vernacular. “A Cockney monster!”

Dipper wished he had a weapon of some kind… but he did have a lighter.

“Mabel, do you have any hairspray?”

Mabel looked at her brother. “Do I look like I keep beauty products on me to maintain my radiance at all times?”

Dipper nodded.

Smiling, Mabel handed her brother a small can of hairspray. “Light ‘em up!”

Dipper pulled out a butane lighter, popped the lid and lit the wick, before taking aim with it and the hairspray to unleash a tongue of flame that caused Frankenbeans to stagger back, frightened.

“Wot the chuffin’ ‘ell?!” Frankenbeans cried out as he retreated from the ad hoc flamethrower’s next salvo of flame.

“Where are the kids who came into this house?!” Dipper demanded as he fired again.

Frankenbeans retreated further from the flames. “I’d loike ter kna that myself!”

Hearing footsteps behind them, Dipper and Mabel looked back and found Mums and Fangula at the end of the hallway they had come down, the latter holding in his arms all the pennies Dipper had scattered.

“Uh oh,” Mabel whispered.

“I have an idea,” the Mummy suggested, “Why don’t we torture you and see if they come running to help when they hear your screams?!”

Dipper glanced back and forth at the monsters bracketing them in the corridor. There were no doors they could dip into, or windows they could dive out. They were cornered!

**@@@@@**

In the lounge room, Drew, Roland, and Jo walked up to the organ, marveling at its size and flawlessness. The sheer scale of the instrument was staggering, it had to be the size of a small building itself, and its pipes seemed to go off into the walls, probably to different parts of the house. Like everything else in the undisturbed room, it was clean and polished–as though it was just built and ready to be played.

Drew shook his head as he stepped close to the two rows of keys. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could play such a thing, anyone playing them would have to be eight feet tall to reach them all.

“It’s gigantic,” he murmured.

“I bet you could hear it in the whole house if you played it,” Roland said as he looked at the keys of the instrument.

Jo placed her right hand’s fingers over three of the keys. “What does something this big sound like…?”

Drew saw her hand. “Jo, wait-!”

Too late to be stopped, she pressed down the keys, three notes that blared from the pipes with such force they shook the room.

Upstairs, Dipper, Mabel, and the three monstrous residents all jumped when they heard the blare of the organ. The entire house was shaking just from the bellowing sound.

“What is that?!” Dipper yelled.

Mabel looked around. “A pipe organ! And it’s a big one!”

The monsters weren’t just surprised, the instrument’s blast sent them into a panic.

“UH OH!” Frankenbeans cried out.

Fangula was terrified. “Please don’t let it mean what I think!”

Mums slapped his dusty forehead and looked around in his agitation. “Oh come on, how’d they get into the Organ room?!”

The blast of the organ was loud enough for Misao to hear, surprising her with its sudden groan. Surprise became alarm when the sun disappeared, vanishing behind clouds quickly building and darkening the sky over the house as if they were summoned by the sound.

Just over the hill, Star, Turdina, and Janna stared up at the same darkening sky.

“Whoa,” Janna said aloud.

Turdina looked over to Star and nodded to her, before the two took off towards the direction of the house.

Inside the lounge room, the organ’s roar had already pushed Drew, Jo, and Roland back with their hands over their ears, when a sudden burst of power slammed into them and threw them to the floor. The first three notes faded into an upbeat tune, the entire organ seemed alive, playing a haunting but upbeat tune by itself as the floor shook and the lights flickered.

Drew was the first up, shaking in terror as the colors began to drain from the world. The warm colors of the lounge and its furniture bleeding away to grayscale as the shaking grew reached such an intensity that it felt like a constant vibration.

Upstairs, the colors vanished around Dipper and Mabel too, and both froze in horrified recognition.

They’d both seen this before.

“No…” Dipper gasped as sure enough, the three monsters slowed down to a halt, frozen in time. “Nonononono…!”

The bellow of the organ was affected too, slowing down until it became a low, distorted monotone. Roland and Jo got up to join Drew, and they stared at the black and white instrument, now sitting in silence.

“What’s happening?” Jo asked.

“How am I supposed to know?!” Drew asked harshly.

Three lights, red, blue, and green, suddenly appeared at the top of the second highest row of pipes. As the air trembled and warped around the organ, bolts of energy shot from them until three small women in dresses and hair color matching their respective lights, emerged from a pipe each.

“Huh?” Drew asked aloud.

The three pixie sized women struck presenting poses, and spoke in unison. “We’re the Pipettes, and we proudly present!”

The red woman, on the leftmost pipe, broke unison and held her hand out. “Back by popular demand!”

The green woman on the right did the same. “After 40 years in the can!”

The blue woman swooned. “The Flab-tastic!”

“The Flab-nominal~” Red cheered.

“The Phasm with the chin who can only win!” Green said.

Together, all three threw their hands up. “Give it up for… FLABBER”

The organ warped again, before a shower of light erupted from its front and pyrotechnics burst from the unoccupied pipes, bringing color and the passage of time back into the world. Standing on the keys, his arms outstretched, was a white-skinned humanoid who looked and dressed like a cross between Jay Leno, Elvis Presley, Liberace, and The Joker on an acid trip.

“HAPPY FLABBER DAY!” Flabber shouted at the top of his lungs as sparkles shot from his upshot palms to join the lights and sounds above and behind him.

Roland stared at the bizarre creature, and began to nod. “Hm. Yeah. Hm. Hm. Hm.”

He looked at Drew, then at Jo.

“This is some kind of weird dream. No, a nightmare filled with all the things I don’t like, so I’m gonna lay down until I wake up,” he calmly asserted

The music and lights abruptly stopped as Flabber rested his hands on Roland’s shoulders reassuringly. “Oh, it’s no dream, son.”

Roland looked back at Flabber, alarmed, then at the organ. Flabber was still there, leaning on one knee with one hand while pointing a finger gun at them with the other. “Kachow!”

Drew and Jo jumped back from him, but Flabber was gone from behind Roland. When they looked at the organ again, he was gone from there, too! Searching the room, they found him sitting on one of the lounge seats, relaxing.

“Chill bruh, I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he said in a surfer’s draw. “It’s all love, man. All love.”

Drew was unable to find any chill.

“What do you want?!” He demanded as Jo looked around frantically for any further instances of Flabber.

“What do I want?” The phasm asked. “I got everything I’ve ever wanted, guys!”

He leaped to his feet, and with dramatic excitement shouted to the heavens. “I am FREE! Back to make beautiful sweet magic and music in this rockin’ world!”

A ray of sunshine filled the room and doves fluttered around. Both came from nowhere and that was disconcerting.

“What does all of that entail?” Roland asked. That could mean anything, especially to something that could do what it was doing.

Flabber stopped, and made a relatively plain gesture. “Come on, guys, I’m not a bad Phasm. I’m a good one, really good.”

“The best!” The Pipettes sang together.

Flabber pointed at the Pipettes with two finger guns. _“Thank you, thank you very much!”_

All three swooned like 50s teens at an Elvis concert.

“Usually when things are sealed away for years, it’s because they’re evil!” Drew argued.

“Evil?!” The Pipettes shouted.

“We’ll have you know!” Blue said.

“That as far as Evil goes!” Green said.

“Flabber is a phasm, that makes them all spasm!” Red said.

Together they sang. “In fear, in dread, Flabber’s who they look for under their bed!”

Drew, Jo, and Roland all had doubts.

Flabber explained. “You see, kids! I was sealed in that organ by the monsters that live here! You may have met them, Frankie? Mums? Fangula?”

“We’ve met… a couple of them, I think,” Roland admitted.

“They’re not bad guys, the taste for flesh, blood, and destruction aside”

Flabber stopped.

“Okay they _are_ bad guys, but that’s why it’s _my_ job to keep them in line.”

Jo weighed on that. “So wait, they sealed you up because you kept them in line? Then why haven’t they gone off on rampages?”

Flabber hopped over next to her. “That’s easy, lil’ mama!”

He jumped back in front of the organ and struck several bodybuilder poses in quick succession. “As long as I’m in this house, sealed or not.”

He struck several more poses. “None of the monsters can get out of the vineyard. They’re trapped…”

He disappeared in a puff of smoke, appearing on Drew’s shoulder in the shape of a well-coiffed rat. “Like rats!”

Drew brushed Flabber off his shoulder with a yelp. Hitting the floor in his original floor, Flabber rested his head on his raised hand as he slid on his side to the foot of the organ.

“And I’m stuck here, too! I can’t even get past the door without…” In a low, baritone voice he added. _“… Getting small.”_

He reached down and pulled a blanket over himself in the king sized bed he was tucked into now. “So you can sleep easy at night.”

Flabber yawned and turned his back to them. “Night, night.”

This guy was insane, all three of them agreed. They also agreed that it was time to get out of here, and they began scanning the room for an exit.

Rising and shining, literally, Flabber joined the kids and bowed to them. “Thanks to you, I’m out of that organ and back to make sure that the monsters stay in line, and I’m so grateful for my freedom that I’ll grant you a wish.”

All three of them stopped their searching and gave Flabber a critical look.

“A wish, really?” Jo asked.

“A _wish_ wish?” Roland wanted to clarify. “Like… anything we wanted?”

Flabber nodded. “Anything you desire, whatever you want! As long as my powers can create it, it’s yours.”

Drew, Jo, and Roland once again looked among each other, before they pulled away from Flabber and went into a huddle.

“Is he serious?!” Jo whispered, partly disbelieving, but also very excited.

“I’m still pretty sure this is a dream.” Roland was too afraid to pinch himself to be sure.

“Anything we want, as long as it’s in his power…” Drew murmured as he considered his flashy feats up to this point. “He can probably do anything…”

“We could wish to rule the world,” Jo said.

Roland nodded. “Or wish to be richer than the Vanderhoffs.”

Drew looked at the sealed Beetleborgs comic, and he reached out to take it from him. “Or… we could wish for this.”

Roland and Jo both looked at the comic.

“But we’ve already got the comic,” the latter said.

Drew lit up. “No, we could wish to be the Beetleborgs, the real Beetleborgs!”

Roland did a double take, not having considered that. “With their powers and everything?”

The idea mesmerized Jo, she hadn’t thought about that! “And their weapons, and their vehicles–would it be possible? Could we wish for all of that?”

“Just imagine how amazing it would be to become actual heroes!” Drew eagerly insisted.

“All of that power…” Jo said softly.

Just imagining it won her over. “Yeah, let’s do that!”

Roland shrugged his shoulders. “Well, as long as this is a dream, why the heck not? Let’s do that and maybe now I’ll wake up.”

Then he’d be safe in bed, and none of today would have ever happened.

Flabber was standing behind them, conversing with the Pipettes as he chewed on a candy cigarette.

“They seem like nice kids, you don’t think they’ll wish for anything bad, do you?” He asked like he was hanging out at the water cooler on a coffee break.

Red was touching up her makeup. “Flabby baby, I don’t care.”

Green was working all the kinks in her back and shoulders out. “It’ll be fine, I feel good energy from them.”

Blue brushed her hair. “It ain’t like you can’t take it back if they mess up, right Flabby baby? Oh, you’re on by the way.”

Flabber spun back around, pointing at the three with double finger guns.

“Kachow! What’s it gonna be, kids?”

Drew nodded and held up the comic. “We wish to become these guys?”

Flabber looked at the comic and lit up in recognition. “Oh! Those guys!”

He batted his eyelashes in bemusement after a moment. “… Who are those guys?”

Drew rolled his eyes before explaining. “They’re the Big Bad Beetleborgs, the greatest heroes the multiverse has ever seen.”

Flabber was wary. “Big and bad, but they’re heroes?”

“Of course they’re heroes!” Jo was offended by the very idea of the contrary.

Drew pulled back the comic and, in spite of its historic value, pulled it from the seal and opened it as he continued. “They’re the best, fighting to protect innocents and defeat the evil Magnavores wherever or whenever they might be!”

He held up the comic to Flabber, showing a page with a blue-haired young man his age holding a Beetle Bonder and preparing to transform as he faced off against a shadowy beast.

“This is Blue Beet, the leader. He was just a normal high schooler from Earth until the Magnavores attacked his home. Against the mechanical forces of the Baron Noxic, Earth was helpless until he found the Beetle Bonder and became…”

He flipped the page, showing the Blue Stingerborg on a two page spread, posing with the Stinger Blade ready to strike.

“The Blue Stingerborg! With his powerful Stinger Blade and Turbo Stinger Assault Vehicle, he was able to fend off the Magnavores. To make sure they didn’t come back, he followed Baron Noxic through the portal he came from, and so began his adventure as the multiversal warrior!”

Flabber was impressed, and also concerned. “But wait, what if he can’t find his way back?”

“That’s what makes him a hero. He knows that he might not be able to, but even if he can’t return to his world, he’ll make sure that the Magnavores won’t bring ruin to it or any other.”

Jo took the comic from and flipped a few more pages. Stopping on a fiery red-haired girl in red tights with gold armor.

“The Warrior Princess Reddle is the same, except she wasn’t able to save her world. When the Mean Mercenary Queen Jara attacked her kingdom on the day of her coronation to the Throne of Redalia, the Magnavores destroyed her entire world! So she swore revenge, to stop them from doing such evil again.”

She turned the page. Showing the Red Strikerborg, a red-armored warrior modeled after the Ladybug with eerie yellow glowing eyes in its helmet.

“Using the Red Striker Plasmar, she can blow any Magnavore monster to smithereens! She fights to bring Jara to justice.”

Flabber liked that. “Hmm… so she’s like an avenger, very nice, very Red Sonja.”.

Jo missed the reference. “Who?”

Flabber scoffed in disgust. _“And you read comics.”_

Jo handed the comic to Roland. “Seriously, who’s Red Sonja?”

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Roland said as he flipped through the book and brought it to a bearded young man in his 20s compared to the teenage Blue Beet and Reddle, with a piercing, patient gaze and hair shaved into a wild mohawk.

“This is G Stag-”

“G for Green, right?” Flabber interjected.

“Wow, how’d you guess?” Roland dryly asked.

“I’m noticing a theme, but please…” Flabber batted his eyelashes again. “… Go on.”

“Anyway, he was just a simple young man living in a village that barely has horse drawn carts in terms of technology. Then Biolord Typhus began mutating his village’s livestock, and experimenting on his kin to create monsters for the Magnavore Army. So he took his boomerang and his traps, and began to wage a one-man war against him. Typhus was too powerful though, and when he finally caught him all seemed lost until he found his Beetle Bonder and transformed into the Green Hunter Beetleborg.”

Roland turned the pages to show the Green armored hero, designed after a Stag Beetle.

“His weapon is the Hunter Claw, it can crush enemies and detach to become a boomerang. He was able to save his people with the help of the benevolent Saint Papilia, and at her urging went into the multiverse to pursue the Magnavores and their leader, Dimension King Vexor G.”

Flabber shivered, the sound of teeth chattering surrounding him. “That name sounds so evil it’s giving me the chills!”

He suddenly froze up, his white skin and colorful suit and pants frosted over.

“Ice cold, baby!” He said through his grit teeth.

Drew took the comic from Roland and held it up. “So would you be able to make us into the Beetleborgs?”

Flabber thawed out. “Oh I can do that, but are you sure you want to become entirely different people?”

Quickly Drew shook his head. “Whoa, no! We don’t want to become them literally! We just want to have their powers and equipment. That stuff.”

“Yeah, don’t change us into the actual people themselves,” Jo clarified.

Flabber sighed in relief. “Okay, now THAT is even easier. Swear, I’d be all day trying to make the other thing happen… if I can even make it happen. Could I?”

He paused and hummed.

“I’ll save that question for a rainy day!”

Clapping his hands, Flabber rapidly teleported atop his organ, smoke and steam pouring from the pipes as a dramatic, rising tune began to play. As the Pipettes joined in with a haunting choir, swirling stars and planets appeared around the ends of Flabber’s hands.

The children stepped back, in awe of the lights and sounds. They could feel it again, that incredible power that came from the organ when they first saw it.

Flabber jerked his whole body and pointed his hands to the wall on his right.

“Flib!”

Jo jumped and hid a little behind her brother.

Jerking to the left, Flabber pointed at the other wall.

_“Flab!”_

Roland swallowed nervously. He really, really hoped this was a dream!

Flabber thrust his hands to the ceiling, a light forming between his hands.

**_“FLABBER!”_ **

Drew tensed up, bracing himself.

He pointed his hands down at them.

“You’re Superheroes! Fighting for what’s right! PHASM FORCE!”

Everything went white.

**@@@@@**

This was too much, too quickly. Somehow, today had gone from zero to one hundred to “too fast to live.”

As he and his sister stood in a silent, grayscale world, time stopped around them, Dipper felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest if it wasn’t ripped out in the next few seconds by a vengeful demon. He looked over to Mabel and she looked as genuinely afraid as he felt, on the verge of hyperventilating while she wildly scanned the hallway for threats–any eyes or triangles embedded as a decoration in the house.

“Dipper…” She murmured. “… This is like when-”

“Don’t say it, I know!”

“What do we do?!”

They could still move, but the monsters couldn’t, he realized. “C-come on, we need to get out of here!”

He took her hand, and she tightly gripped it back, as they rushed past Mums and Fangula and headed back towards the stairs.

“Dipper, if it’s _him-”_

“Then we call Grunkle Ford and hope he has a plan! I was not ready for the end of the world to start today!”

They made it back to the part of the house that made sense, when the colors abruptly returned to the world and the dark skies out the windows cleared up. Stumbling to a halt at the top of the stairs, Dipper and Mabel quickly looked around. Nothing felt different, or like the fundamental laws of the universe were inverting to tear existence apart and remodel into an incomprehensible cloud of entropy, memes, and cackling laughter.

“Is it over already…?” Mabel asked.

“No, that was definitely just the beginning,” Dipper answered.

“Hey, where’d they go?!” They both looked in the direction of Mums’ voice.

“They vanished!” Fangula answered him.

The twins looked back down the hall, and saw the two monsters step back around the corner.

Seeing them, the mummy pointed. “There they are! Get ‘em!”

“Out the house,” Dipper warned as the three monsters resumed the pursuit.

“But what about-?” Mabel started, before Dipper pulled her after him.

“We can’t wait for them!”

He had a feeling that whatever happened, Drew, Jo, and Roland were at the center of it. If they saw them again, it’d be soon. He hoped, at that time, that the three of them would be okay.


	10. Beetle Rock!

**|Beetle Rock!|**

Drew wasn’t just okay.

Andrew McCormick felt… amazing.

He was seeing the world not with his two eyes, but through the helmet of his newly wished Blue Stingerborg armor. It had everything that the comics featured, including a light blue heads up display with horizon, altitude, speed, and minimap icons. It even had the power/ammo remaining for the suit’s Input Magnum and its modes, and the power meter for the Stinger Blade! He looked down at his armor-encased right arm, and gasped in surprise. There it was, Blue Beet’s signature weapon equipped on his arm–the blade’s nano-thin edge so fine that it was gleaming as it cut through the light.

“This… this is real…” He closed and opened his hand.

“Drew?”

Jo’s barely contained excitement was obvious, he turned to face her and saw the Red Strikerborg standing where Jo had been moments before. She was clenching her hands into fists, hunched down and shaking as she tried not to leap for joy, out of worry she’d go through the ceiling.

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh.”

“I know, right?!” Drew asked her.

“I’M A BEETLEBORG!” Jo was freaking out.

“Yes!” Drew agreed, and the two repeatedly high fived.

“This is awesome!” Jo cried.

“Isn’t it?!”

They turned to face Roland, who seemed… solemn by comparison in his Green Hunterborg armor.

“… Roland?” Drew asked.

“Wow, unreal…” He murmured. “… My gosh…”

“What?” Drew asked.

Jo looked to her blue armored brother. “Uhh…”

“I guess he still thinks he’s dreaming…” Drew suggested.

“This is amazing…!” Suddenly, Roland yelled out, causing both Drew and Jo to jump back. “I FEEL INCREDIBLE! YES! YES! YES! YES! I CAN WIN! I FEEL GREAT! I! CAN! DO! THIS!”

“Oh.” Both looked at each other again and snickered.

Roland threw out his hands. “This is all a miracle! I’m awake! I’m wide awake!”

Behind them, Flabber was stroking his bizarrely large chin. “I really hate these long sleeps. I know he’s doing a bit, but I don’t know what it is.”

He turned to the Pipettes, pouting. “And I don’t like being left out of the joke.”

“It’s been forty years,” Blue suggested.

“You’ve got some reading to do~!” Red and Green sang.

Flabber clapped his hands. “Ooh, I just love homework!”

Roland sighed. “I always wanted to do that.”

Drew patted Roland’s shoulder. “Just for that, I’m calling you Big Green from now on.”

“Big Green will allow this,” Roland said with a short nod.

“What should we do first?” Drew asked.

Jo punched her palm. “Let’s go teach those monsters a lesson, and then go freak the Vanderbutts out.”

Drew shook his head. “Yeah on the first thing, but definitely no on the second. We can’t just go out and terrorize people, even if they are jerks.”

Roland agreed. “Come on, being responsible with our powers is the first rule of having powers, Jo. We’ve all read Spider-Man.”

“Yeah, but I _hate_ Spider-Man.”

Flabber was starting to understand Jo’s terrible taste.

Drew turned to the Phasm. “All right, Flabber, how do we get out of here?”

“Now hang on!” Flabber said. “Before I tell ya, you gotta promise…”

“What?” Roland asked.

Flabber wasn’t sure how this’d go over with them. “Could ya… not kill the guys?”

“What? Why?” Drew asked.

“They tried to eat us!” Jo argued.

Flabber gestured emphatically. “I know, I know, but while they’re _bad_ guys they’re not _bad, bad guys_. Smack ‘em around, humiliate ‘em, teach them right from wrong, but don’t… you know… _kill ‘em.”_

He brought up his hands together and rested them against his cheek. “Please? For me?”

Flabber batted his eyelashes at them emphatically.

Jo groaned, she really wanted to try the Red Striker Plasmar at full power on something. “… Fine!”

Roland was a bit relieved. “Yeah, we shouldn’t be in a hurry to kill anyone… even if they are a creepy monster freak.”

Drew agreed. “All right Flabber, we promise not to kill them. How do we get out of here?”

Flabber gestured behind them. “Why, right through that door over-”

He stopped, there was no door where he gestured, just a wall. “Huh, there was a door there.”

The miffed phasm placed his hands on his hips. “Well, I never! They put up a wall to keep me from somehow getting out!”

Drew was surprised. “Those monsters we saw don’t seem like the type.”

“They aren’t!” The Blue Pipette said.

“We bet they got Ghoulum to do it~!” All three added in song.

“Wholum?” Roland asked.

“Ghoulum!” The Pipettes answered.

Flabber nodded. “Oh yeah, rock solid guy. Real handy!”

**@@@@@**

In the front room of Hillhurst Mansion, Dipper and Mabel were stopped short of the door when a massive hand slammed it shut. The hand belonged to the black-bodied statue of an Asura that stood even taller than Dipper and Mabel, its face fixed with a fierce expression leveled onto the twins.

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other. “You wanna…?”

Mabel nodded. “Yeah, yeah, the Taekowndo thing…”

She wound up and kicked the statue in its stomach.

“OW SON OF A-!”

It did absolutely nothing.

Roland looked towards the wall Flabber indicated. “Wait, did you hear that?”

“Hear it?” Drew asked as the eyes of his helmet lit up and he could see in thermal vision through the walls. “I can see it! I think Dipper and Mabel are on the other side!”

Mabel rubbed her leg, whimpering. “It’s like a statue or something…!”

Dipper placed himself between Mabel and the statue. “Come on, I’m not afraid of you.”

The statue let out a growl, and two more arms emerged from its back, fists clenched and ready to fight. This development did not bode well for Dipper, who slightly lowered his guard.

“Huh.”

It was less of a question and more an acknowledgement of how screwed they were.

“Hey! Ghoulum’s got ‘em!”

Dipper and Mabel looked back to see the other three monstrous residents of Hillhurst reach the stairs. Yeah, they were fairly screwed. This was all done in a hurry, he had no gadgets, no gear, no preptime. Had he known what he was getting into, they’d have a chance, but as it was now? They were done for.

Mums reached the bottom of the steps first, and pointed at the two of them. “All right, you two. No more tricks and teleports. Do you wanna die slowly or quickly?”

“I could go both ways,” Fangula said as he looked back and forth between Dipper and Mabel, drooling in anticipation.

“Hey, want pet!” Frankenbeans protested.

Mums looked back up at the man-monster. “I’ll get you another pet rock, what do you say?”

“So this is how we die,” Dipper lamented, “Killed by the Universal Studio prop closet.”

“Just not the face, I want an open casket funeral!” Mabel pleaded with the monsters.

Fangula hissed. “I will be most happy to oblige, my… little morsel~”

Mabel looked at Dipper and pointed at the vampire. “Dibs on getting killed by that guy.”

The sound of metal carving through wood loudly interrupted the pre-murder banter. The monsters and their would-be victims looked towards the wall, and watched as the end of a gleaming blue blade cut a long diagonal line from the ceiling to the floor, disappeared, and then reappeared to carve a second in the opposite direction.

Fangula and Frankenbeans looked at each other and back at the door confused, while Mums scratched the side of his wrapped-too-tight head. Ghoulum turned towards the wall, and snarled audibly as the blade disappeared again.

For a moment, all was quiet.

Dipper and Mabel watched the wall as quietly as the monsters.

Mums looked around again. “Uh-”

The wall exploded outward, the Green Hunterborg barreling out of the chunks of wood straight towards Frankenbeans with the Hunter Claw open to strike. The man monster didn’t even have time to scream before he was snared in the crushing claw and slammed into the wall behind him with enough force to leave an imprint.

“Take that, tall dumb and smelly!” Roland called out in triumph.

Dipper looked at the green armored warrior. “Wait, what?!”

Mabel dragged him down to the floor as Jo opened fire on Mums, the crackling rays from the four barrels of the Red Striker Plasmar shocking the Mummy before he collapsed to the floor, convulsing.

Jo laughed as she pulled the weapon back, smoke wisping from it. “Oh yeah, there’s a shock to your system!”

Fangula, the last one standing, looked back at Frankenbeans, Mums, and finally at the Blue Stingerborg, coming at him with the Stinger Blade. With a yelp of fear he jumped over Drew’s opening swing, and then dove away from a clumsy followup blow.

“Wait! What is going on here?! Who are you?!” The vampire demanded as he faced the armored youth.

Drew spun around and swung the Stinger Blade, cutting off Fangula’s belt and causing his pants to fall to the floor, revealing a festively out of season pair of Christmas boxers underneath.

Drew declared proudly. “We’re the Big Bad Beetleborgs, and if you don’t leave these two alone, we’re going to be your worst-”

“And last!” Jo cut in.

“Nightmare!” Drew finished. Realizing what Jo interjected with, he turned to his sister.

“Come on, _really?”_

Fangula yanked up his pants. “M-Message received! Frankie! Come on, take the Mummy and run!”

Mums was still convulsing on the ground, as Frankenbeans grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. The three Beetleborgs together turned to face Ghoulum, who still stood by the door, ready for combat.

“Rrrrr… nope!”

Or not, as the statue monster’s extra arms receded and it turned to walk off into the house, grumbling.

“We did it!” Drew cheered.

Jo pumped her fist. “Yeah! This is awesome!”

“Did you see that?! I took down that Frankenfreak like it was nothing!” Roland said.

“Yeah, you like ‘whoosh!’ and he was like ‘Oh my gosh!’”

“Then Jo was like, ‘boom!’ and that Mummy guy was like ‘ugalugaluga!’”

“Drew you were so cool with that sword!”

“Yeah, I was like ‘vwim! vwim!’ and I cut that vampire’s belt right off-”

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING HECK IS GOING ON?!”

The newly armored Beetleborgs stopped and looked at Dipper and Mabel. They were on their feet again, looking at the three of them with a mixture of disbelief and concern from Dipper, and excited awe from Mabel.

“Drew, Jo, Roland is… is that… you?” Dipper asked.

“Oh my gosh, I’m freaking out…” Mabel said out of the corner of her mouth.

Drew stepped up. “Yeah, we’re the Beetleborgs now!”

A moment passed noticeably before Dipper asked. “… How?!”

Roland answered. “We wished for it from a Phasm.”

The color fled Dipper’s face. “A Phasm?!”

Flabber, standing to Dipper’s right, extended a hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Pine Tree.”

“AHHHH!” Dipper recoiled from him, landing in Mabel’s arms and backing away from him.

“That is your name right, Pine Tree? You look like a Pine Tree. Well, not like a Pine Tree.”

Flabber transformed suddenly, and was wearing a Pine Tree costume, complete with a woodpecker going to town on the upper trunk.

“Otherwise, how ‘wood’ you get in through the door?”

Mabel, holding Dipper, snickered.

Dipper looked Flabber up and down and slightly relaxed. “… You’re not Bill.”

“Bill?” Flabber stroked his chin. “I don’t know any Bills… except for…”

He pulled out a yellow envelope. “The electric bill.”

A blue envelope. “The water bill.”

And finally a green envelope. “The gas bill…”

Flabber looked aside at Drew as he tossed them over his shoulder. “Actually I’d rather not know _those_ Bills…”

Dipper stopped relaxing. A wish granting entity whose power had the same kind of ring as a universe-destroying demon was not something to take lightly or ever lower his guard around.

More concerning still? He called him _Pine Tree._

“Who are you?” Dipper asked.

Flabber, sans tree costume, summoned forth a massive comb and ran it through his stylish pompadour. “Flabber’s the name, and magic’s my game. I’m the host with the most, of the rockinest mansion on the coast!”

“Why did you give them superpowers?!” Dipper demanded.

“Because they helped a geist out, it’s only nice.”

Mabel giggled. “Hehehe… geist.”

Flabber looked past Dipper to Mabel. “Thank you very much; it is so hard to get a laugh around here. The usual crowd is either wrapped up in their own ego, bloody hecklers, or frankly just not smart enough to appreciate the humor.”

Mabel began giggling madly, as Dipper brought his hand up to bury his face in his palm. “Mabel, stop.”

“He’s funny, though!” She argued.

“No he’s not,” Jo and Roland said in unison.

Drew wasn’t going to admit he thought Flabber was hilarious.

Flabber realized Dipper’s concern. “Now, I know what you’re thinking-”

Dipper was suddenly dressed in an eloquent, sparkling pink ballgown, while Flabber was dressed as a homely country girl with a basket and a little dog, too.

“-Am I a good phasm, or a bad phasm?”

They were back to normal before Dipper could become indignant about it, so he was left just disoriented for an instant.

“Well you don’t need to worry yourself one little bit, I’m as good a phasm as they come!”

Dipper shook his head to work the confusion out of it. “You don’t give kids superpowers! That’s the opposite of good!”

“Hey, we can handle it,” Drew insisted.

_“No you can’t,”_ Dipper shot back.

“What’s the deal? We saved your lives but you think we shouldn’t have superpowers?” Jo asked.

“Exactly! Do you realize what kind of consequences that has?!”

Drew was insistent, as he held up his blade. “Dipper, it’ll be all right. We made the wish, we’ll accept any consequences that come with it.”

“Yeah!” Jo said with a nod.

Roland likewise supported Drew. “That’s right.”

Dipper looked at Mabel, the Beetleborgs, and at Flabber–his eyes narrowing contemptuously when his gaze fell upon the Phasm. “My sister and I have experience with things that can make your dreams come true. Wishes, favors, _deals…_ and every time? What we want is exactly what we get, and the price is always way too high.”

A chiming sound followed Dipper’s ominous assertion, followed by an electrical charge ramping up. Everyone in the sitting room looked towards the partially open door, just before they heard.

“Mega…”

Dipper realized what was happening. “Oh no.”

“NARWHAL BLAST!”


	11. The Price

**|The Price|**

In a vacant lot clear on the other side of Echo Creek, three humanoid figures lay face down on the ground. A large green-caped creature that was a mass of writhing green organs, sea creatures, and shell-plate armor over a skeleton topped off with a whale-shaped helmet, a scrawny mechanical man with white and gold plated skin wearing a labcoat, his “hair” a set of tubes ending in blue and green tips, and lastly a woman wearing a red armored cape over a matching tight leotard, red and white mask covering her face, a beret with a golden plate at the front.

They were surrounded by enough empty beer bottles to kill a college fraternity with alcohol poisoning.

“Hey, who stopped the party, baby?” The green caped monster, still face-down on the ground asked in a deep, funky voice.

The machine in the white labcoat didn’t even try to move. Speaking with a noticeable New York accent, he answered. “Don’t bother me Typhus, I’m updatin’.”

The woman with them groaned. Her thick Slavic accent tearing into the heads of her compatriots. “Why did I drink so much…? Why do I always drink so much?”

She was the first one to get up, bringing her hand up to shield her face from the afternoon sun. “What is wrong with the sky? Why is it so bright… and not… screaming?”

The world around her registered, and she whipped her head back and forth. Something was wrong, entirely wrong! Or right! Or something!

“Oh. Oh dear. Typhus! Noxic! Get up, get up!”

“I’m updatin’!” Noxic, the lab coat-wearing android, angrily insisted, before a chime sounded. “Huh, it’s done? Whoa… where’d this bandwidth come from? This is amazing!”

He sat up, revealing a mechanical face with gold wired black goggles over his eyes. In spite of him, he could plainly see they weren’t in what counted as Kansas for them anymore. “Whoaaa… how much did we drink?!”

Typhus got up and looked around. “Too much; this is weird, baby.”

“It is not just weird, it is impossible! Everything is so… so… orderly! The air, the ground, the sky! There is nothing in our world like this! Everything is so… so… consistent!” The woman said as she walked around the lot.

Noxic jumped around excitedly. “Jara, check it out! This place has the most up to date Java, and I installed it in a microsecond! What is this miracle world of technology?!”

The woman, Jara, placed her hands on her mask’s porcelain cheeks. “I do not know, but I am already liking it much more than that old dump!”

Typhus sat on the ground, his grinding his underbitten teeth as he looked around. “How’d we get here?”

Noxic began doing cartwheels. “Hey, you don’t want that gift horse to bite you, now! Whoo-hoo!”

Typhus threw up his hands .“C’mon, if this ain’t the old place, then how’d we get to this new place? “It don’t make sense.”

“It. Doesn’t.”

All three stopped everything they were doing, and slowly looked towards the voice that spoke. Eloquent, calm, if a bit exasperated, it belonged to a creature in white, regal humanoid creature adorned in chitinous armor with a cape that was neither soft nor rigid. His white, polished face with black slits concealing slightly opened yellow eyes was adorned with a tall golden crown–not unlike a pope’s mitre. He stood by the wooden fence that ringed the lot, in his hand a comic book–a recent issue of The Big Bad Beetleborgs.

Noxic groaned. “Aw man, Vexor’s here too.”

“Yes, I am,” Vexor said lightly, “Did you think you three would be so easily rid of me?”

“We had hope,” Jara said sarcastically.

“And now we don’t,” Noxic lamented.

“Regardless of your useless whining. I know where we are, and quite possibly how we got here.”

Vexor walked towards them. Though he moved slowly, one footstep at a time, it also seemed to glide over the ground… like gravity itself wasn’t sure of the creature opposing it. Reaching them, he held aloft the comic.

“We have achieved what even the mightiest of us could not.”

Jara looked at the comic, and saw herself on the cover, face to face in combat against a red-armored creature she had no idea about. “That’s me!”

“What? When did _you_ get a comic book?!” Noxic snatched the book from Vexor

He flipped through it and recoiled in shock. “Hey, Typhus! Look at this, we’re in it too!”

That caught Typhus’s interest. “Hey, let me see!”

He looked at the page with him and Noxic on it. “Biolord Typhus, huh? Yeah, I can dig it, baby!”

Vexor swiped the book back from them, closing it. “We have left our decaying dimension completely, and we have an unlikely savior to thank for our emergence.”

He turned the comic over and gestured to the barcode of the comic. There, next to the 2.99 price tag and above the lines of the code, was the comic’s seal of authenticity: a black and white eye of providence.

All three stared at it. Jara trembled with fear, Typhus felt sick, and Noxic crackled with electricity. All at once, they spoke a single word.

**“HIM.”**

“Quite.”

Noxic shook his head. “Nooo… nonono… He’s gone. The guys that came back from his big shindig in the rift said He got disvaporaterized by the humans!”

“Yes, and the walls have only gotten stronger since!” Jara added.

“He was unpredictable and chaotic in His brash wielding of power, but His cunning was second only to my own. Even as He plotted one way out of our eternal nightmare, He had another, quite possibly many others, at His disposal.”

Vexor patted the comic. “And this one has borne fruit that we all can partake in!”

Light shone from those black slits on his eyes. “Even greater. With Him well and truly dead… nothing stands in our way of conquering this universe for ourselves.”

Jara, Noxic, and Typhus looked between each other, and back to Vexor. The white adorned demon threw out his arms.

“At long last, the Magnavore Tribe needn’t scurry in the shadows! Upon this reality, we ourselves will cast the shadows and the vermin will cower within!”

That sounded great to Vexor’s three minions. Better than great even!

“Oh man, think about it! A whole universe we can conquer! That’ll be the coolest!” Noxic said.

“Ain’t nobody gonna stand in our way,” Typhus said.

Jara clasped her hands together and rested them against her cheek. “Ah, it will be so nice to invite the girls over to party in a dimension that isn’t slowly burning to the ground.”

“Yet!” Noxic and Typhus said together, and the three laughed.

Vexor raised a single hand, silencing them. “Wait.”

The white monstrosity was looking around, something suddenly troubling him.

“That… do you feel that…?” He asked.

“Feel what?” Typhus asked.

“I am not one of your Dragon Ball Scouters, please elaborate,” Jara said.

Noxic brought a hand to his goggles and pressed a button on them. “Yeah, that’s me.”

His voice shook, like he’d once witnessed power like this before and never wanted to again.  
“There is something here… powerful and ancient…”

Vexor went still and stared off into the distance.

“Uh… boss?” Typhus asked.

Vexor began shrieking, in a static-filled, mechanical voice.

**_“JIWKR TMADW XJDIC YOCTJ RTFXT MOIYO BIUZV AOWDM QGZJL GKPOY RYPOM YKJTU FGCB!”_ **

“Augh!” Jara’s hands shot to her ears.

“Not cool, baby!” Typhus yelled as the whale mouth on the top of his head opened and coughed up a green, viscous fluid.

**_“SKEXP FZYSX RPCSQ ZEVWE BFSGT YMFTQ IRPVA BFDJS ZCNHB RBHC!”_ **

Even Noxic was affected. “C’mon boss, you crashed my auditory!”

Like an old disk drive repurposed to make music, Vexor’s laugh came out in a long, slow metallic whine. Then, the demon collapsed onto his knees, fear somehow etched into an expressionless face.

Wasted and gasping for air, Vexor shakily spoke with a raspy, elderly voice. “It’s here!”

Jara’s hearing returned just in time for her to ask. “What’s here?! And what was that?!”

Vexor shakily rose back to his feet, but his legs looked weak, like he could topple over again at any moment. He pointed off to his side and answered her. “An ancient power, vast and deep, it stands to threaten my radiance… and it is close! I command you three to find it!”

“Wait, you mean now?!” Jara asked.

Typhus groaned. “Ease up, I’m still hungover, baby!”

 ** _“NOW!”_** Vexor roared.

“And how are we supposed to find something that we cannot feel?!” Jara now demanded.

“Uhh… hey, guys? I can’t hear what you’re yakkin’ about, but I’m detecting a huge power level that way!” Noxic pointed, exactly in the direction Vexor pointed.

Typhus shoved Noxic forward. “Let’s get goin’ then. Move it, baby!”

“Yeesh! All right, all right! Let me get my sound system going!”

Jara looked back at Vexor. “What about you?”

Vexor shooed Jara away, while clutching his face with his other hand. “I will find a suitable lair for us! Now go, go! Make haste, find what that _thing_ is!”

“Fine! Warn us next time you decide to have a freak out like that!” Rubbing her right ear, Jara stomped off after her compatriots, leaving Vexor to collapse back down to one knee.

“I was wrong. One thing stands in my way,” he lamented.

He dug his clawed fingers into the dirt, as he clenched his hand into a fist.

“One thing.”

A sinister glee welled up in him, as he thought of this world, the same that slew Him, the fault of his downfall, and Vexor’s own calculated odds against it.

“The only thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers, hope you don't mind that I've kept the fine tradition of Gravity Falls-related materials of including fun ciphers and puzzles to solve. If you're clever, you too can solve the enigma!


	12. The Old Axiom

**|The Old Axiom|**

Life can be strange. One day you’re just a regular teen, doing regular teen things. Then, you get your hands on an ultra-rare comic book, get chased around by lawyer-friendly parodies of Universal Pictures monsters, free a magical phasm from his prison, and get granted superpowers from him. Everything’s well and good, but then a magical princess from another dimension is pummeling you, your sister, and your best friend with a barrage of conjured narwhals.

As he used his body to shield Dipper and Mabel from Star Butterfly’s magic spell, Drew reconsidered that–this was completely insane 

“Hey! Argh! Knock it off!” He shouted as he braced himself against the deluge of sea mammals that took out the front window of the house.

“We’re not the bad guys!” Jo shouted over before a particularly large narwhal impacted her armored belly. “OOF!”

“Yeah, blue on blue!” Roland called out. Another one hit him in the head and got caught between the curved horns of his helmet.

The curtains covering the windows, shredded by the attack and the broken glass, were blown in by the breeze rolling off the Los Angeles Mountains, revealing Star standing on the porch of the house with the magical wand aimed inside. Lowering the wand, she looked over to her right. “Hey, aren’t these the guys from the comic book your Mom and Dad read?”

Princess Turdina jogged up the stairs. “Star, I told you to hold on!”

He reached the doorway and looked inside. Doing a double-take, he stared at the Metal Heroes standing in the living room. “Uh… what the heck?”

Dipper got up, holding one of the thankfully deflected Narwhals by its tail fluke. “Mega Narwhal Blast… so it really does just fire Narwhals at people.”

Mabel hugged one, and it happily snuggled into her embrace. “They’re so cute!”

Drew faced Princess Turdina, cleared his throat, and tried to be as adult and heroic-sounding as he could. “Uh, you have nothing to fear, ladies, the situation is well under control thanks to us.”

Turdina’s head tilted ever so slightly in confusion. “Hah?”

“Yes, these two civilians are under our protection!” Roland’s attempt at sounding like a superhero was similarly bad.

“Why are you talking like that?” Star asked.

Turdina looked around. “What happened to all that weird and evil stuff? The sky turned black, strange sounds came from the house, and then we were told that there were monsters in here eating people?”

“By who?” Dipper asked.

Janna poked her head in the door. “Oh cool, you’re alive.”

She looked at the Beetleborgs. “… Sick cosplay.”

“Thanks, _it’s not,”_ Jo snapped.

Janna slowly rolled her eyes, dismissing Jo’s nasty tone. “Okay?”

Dipper stepped forward. “Thanks, everything’s under control now.”

It was nice to think things. As long as these guys had superpowers, the situation was going to be bad and get worse unless this literal genie was crammed back into the bottle. He looked around, but Flabber was missing.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel weaved around the Beetleborgs to get to Star. “You’re the real live Star Butterfly! That was amazing, you’re amazing, this Narwhal is amazing!”

Star smiled. “You’re amazing!”

Mabel squealed. “I’m Mabel, I’m going to your school Monday! Do you want to be friends?”

Star’s excited smile grew even bigger. “I love making friends, so yes!” 

Dipper sighed. Today’s roller coaster wasn’t going to stop. He turned to the Beetleborgs. “So, can you guys change back?”

“Yeah,” Drew said, “But not in front of people.”

Jo agreed. “We want to keep our identities secret, you know?”

Dipper shook his head. “Whoa, no. This is not going to be a thing! We need to talk to Flabber and get this undone!”

Turdina walked over and gestured to the Beetleborgs. “Get what undone, this?”

“They made a wish to become superheroes,” Dipper explained to… wait, who _was_ this?

Turdina looked at the Beetleborgs. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Roland said with the McCormicks.

“That’s bad,” Turdina looked back at Marco. “Anytime you make a wish like that, it goes wrong!”

“Thank you!” Dipper said.

Jo placed her hands on her hips, which just looked strange as an armored warrior. “Ugh, we said we can handle this!”

Drew groaned. “We’re not doing this again.”

They didn’t have to, because Misao’s piercing scream made everyone stop and look towards the front door and windows of the house. Dipper bolted out the door, fearing the worst… and after he jumped off the porch and over the steps he was shocked to see his expectations had been wildly surpassed. Turdina came out next, followed by the Beetleborgs–who stopped short when they saw it.

Misao was on her back, scrambling backward from three wildly dressed monstrous figures who were slowly advancing upon her.

“Look what we found guys, a human!” Noxic said as he, Typhus, and Jara advanced upon the frightened girl.

“She’s so small, and fat!” Jara said. “And what is with that trashy hair?”

Jara grunted in disgust. “Ugh, I don’t eat meat that screams.”

Noxic shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry, it’ll stop in a second.”

“Hey don’t body-shame, baby,” Typhus said. “Besides, think of all that meat on them bones.”

Roland looked between Drew and Jo. “Guys? Are those…?”

Drew shook his head. “Oh no…”

Jo couldn’t believe it. “This isn’t happening!”

The Magnavores had arrived at the place Noxic had recorded the incredible power and came across Misao hiding in the vineyard. Naturally, none of them could resist an opportunity to freak one of the locals out, so here they were bullying her.

“Don’t eat me!” Misao cried out.

“Hahaha! Hey, I’m not gonna eat ya!” Noxic assured her. “I’m a robot, see?”

He reached up and removed his face, revealing a mass of gears, wires, and moving parts writhing, turning, and clicking around an unnervingly human set of eyes and lips.

Horrified, Misao fainted on the spot.

Noxic laughed. “Ha! What’d I tell ya?!”

“Misao!” Jo cried in alarm.

Roland turned to Drew. “Did… did they come to life when we wished to be the Beetleborgs?”

Drew stiffened in place, as the repercussions struck him.

Dipper hated, _hated_ being right at times like these. “Do you see, now? This is why you don’t wish to become superheroes, because then you have to _be superheroes!”_

There were a lot of thoughts racing through Drew’s mind. Flabber’s offer was too good to pass up the second he realized that they could become Beetleborgs. Wishing to become one brought the Magnavores and their evil ambitions to crush the multiverse in their iron fist to life too, and now people were in danger. This was something that they did… something that _he_ convinced them to do.

_“No… this wasn’t what I wanted!”_ He thought in horror. _“I… didn’t wish for this, I just wanted…!”_

He remembered what happened at the comic shop: Trip and Van mocking him, Jo deriding him for not being able to talk to Heather, his hesitation to say what he wanted to Heather, watching Dipper take the entire confrontation against Trip into his own hands… and finally himself staring at the poster of Blue Beet.

If he had Blue Beet’s powers, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of that.

Well, he had them now… so now what?

_“… There’s only one thing.”_

Drew took a deep breath, and walked past Dipper. “Okay then.”

Dipper watched him go. “What?”

The Blue Stingerborg raised his right arm out at his side, the Stinger Blade gleaming in the afternoon sun. “I’ll be a superhero.”

“That’s really cool, but you have no idea what you’re doing!” Dipper yelled after him.

The light gleaming off the blade caught Typhus’ attention, and he turned to look over at the Beetleborg approaching them. “Hey, who’s that?”

Jara and Noxic both looked at him, the latter shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, but he looks like he means business.”

The former pushed past him, drawing from her hip a red spike on a matching hilt, with a yellow blade spiraling around it like a drill. “Whatever, I will handle this guy.”

She pointed the weapon at him. “Whoever you are, you are going to tell us about the incredible power here-”

Drew answered by drawing the blade back to his chest and launching himself at Jara. “YAH!”

Jara quickly raised her weapon and blocked Drew’s slash, sparks flying from their blades meeting. “Ugh! How rude!”

She kicked Drew’s right leg at the knee, making his footing slip, slashed him across the chest with her weapon, then performed an uppercut that launched him onto his back, sparks and pieces of metal flying with each blow.

“Ugh!” Drew grunted as he hit the ground and slid back.

Dipper grimaced. “And there it is.”

“Hey!” Roland shouted as he blasted off towards Jara.

“Wait up!” Jo called, following.

“No, Stop!” This was a bad idea, Dipper knew exactly what was going to happen. 

Jara turned towards all the shouting, and saw the Hunterborg coming at her with the Strikerborg right behind him. It honestly took her by surprise. “More of these metal weirdos?”

“Hey, I take offense to that!” Noxic yelled.

Roland lunged with the Hunter Claw, but Jara deflected it and sidestepped him. Facing him, she evaded a sloppy swing and slapped him across his helmeted head with her weapon. The blow caused him to stagger past her, and she slashed him across the back for good measure. When he didn’t go down, and turned around to grab her with the claw again, she bopped him on the forehead with the hilt of her weapon, stunning him, and kicked him onto his back.

Star winced. “Oh. Wow. This is embarrassing.”

“Dipper, she’s kicking their butts!” Mabel said.

He sighed. “… Yep.”

Jo stopped short of the fight, and aimed the Striker Plasmar. Close in wasn’t working, so she could hit her from long range. “Hey! That color looks terrible on you!”

Jara faced Jo. “You are the last person to talk about fashion, metal freak!”

Noxic was even more offended. “Wow, Jara, I thought we were friends!”

Jo opened fire, bolts of red energy converging on Jara. The masked woman took her cape and swept it in front of her to take the brunt of the blast and scatter the bolts to hit Noxic and Typhus behind her, knocking them both to the ground.

Jo was dumbfounded. “Jara’s cape can’t do that in the comic!”

Dramatically sweeping her cape aside so it flowed behind her, Jara pointed her weapon at Jo. “I have form and function!”

A red beam of light shot from Jara’s weapon and like a constrictor snake lunging for its prey, it lashed around Jo and wrapped her up tightly in several coils. The speed of the weapon surprised her, and when she struggled against it, sparks and explosions flew from her armor.

“Ugh! Wh-what is this?!” Jo demanded.

Jara didn’t give her an answer, she yanked on her weapon, lifting Jo off her feet towards her. As the Red Strikerborg reached her, Jara deactivated the weapon and lunged at her. The two red warriors passed one another, Jara holding her blade forward while Jo stumbled to a stop behind her.

Jara sneered. “Feh, Amateurs.”

Multiple red lights slashed across Jo’s armor, and with several more damaging explosions, she fell flat on her face.

Janna whistled. “That was so cool.”

“This is so bad!” Dipper corrected her, before Flabber grabbed him by the shoulder. Startling him. “Ahh!”

“Hey, Pine Tree? I think we have a problem.”

Dipper faced the phasm. “You! Of course we have a problem!”

“What?!” Flabber followed where Dipper pointed to the Magnavores and winced. “Ooh… yeah. That. There’s a problem.”

He held up the comic up to Dipper. “I thought about what you said, and I was going to offer to take the wish back for something else. You know, a dirt bike, a treasure chest, maybe an iguana? But… something happened with the book. I can’t work my magic on it anymore.”

Dipper took the comic. “So you can’t take the wish back?!”

“I used the comic book as the focus. I pushed my power through it to send the wish to the kids. Normally all I have to do is pull the power back through the focus and that’s it… but the focus… lost its focus.”

Dipper stared at the book and turned it over in his hands. “How could it lose its focus? What’s so special about-?”

He saw the barcode, and went nearly pale as Flabber. _“… Oh.”_

Jara stepped on Roland’s back with one foot and pushed him down, pinning him to the dirt. “Now, what was all that about? If I like your explanation, maybe I won’t throw you into scrap heap.”

Noxic got up, and dusted himself off. “Could you be a little more careful, Jara?!”

“Yeah, baby. That was cool and all, but you zapped us, too!” Typhus complained.

“Oh, don’t be crybaby,” Jara snapped back, before she dug her heel into Roland’s armor. 

“We’re also gonna have a serious talk about your thoughts and opinions on the mechanical race!”

In spite of his armor, Roland could feel Jara’s weight pressing him down, keeping him from moving. “Lady… you’re heavy!”

“And now you mock my weight?!” Jara raised her weapon. “Nevermind, I’m using your head to store bottlecaps.”

A fist made of rainbows slammed into Jara’s face, and the Magnavore warrior was thrown through the air past Jo. She hit the ground tumbling like a race car that missed its turn. End over end she went, before she jammed her blade into the dirt and carved a long fissure into the ground to stop. Growling, she looked up at her attacker.

“You ready to throw down, Marco?” Star asked, twirling her wand at high speed like a big iron on her hip.

“It has been _too long_ since I’ve had a chance to haul off,” Princess Turdina said as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

Dipper looked at the two, back at where they were standing–which was now unoccupied–and back to Flabber. “You need to fix this or people are going to get hurt!”

Janna interrupted. “Nah, they got this.”

Dipper grabbed his hat in frustration. “What is with people vastly underestimating what they’ve got?!”

Jara was of the same thought as she got up and readied her weapon. “Is this a dimension full of masochists? Fine then, I will indulge you, but I won’t stop if it hurts too much!”

She raised her weapon to fire the beam, but Star was quicker on the draw. “Strawberry Annihilation!”

Jara hesitated in surprise at that critical instant. “Wait, what?”

A berry bright beam of light smashed into Jara, blasting her back and scorching her armor. Startled, Jara looked down at her armor, then up just in time to meet the sole of Princess Turdina’s sneaker.

“HIYAH!” His flying kick hit almost as hard as the spell itself, but Jara recovered again and readied her weapon. Landing and waving his arms, Turdina widened and lowered his posture, before bringing his arms to halt in a ready fighting stance.

Jara clenched her grip on her weapon, and assumed her own combat stance. “You have made a very big mistake!”

Turdina didn’t seem to care, as he attacked her with a flurry of lightning quick jabs that put her on the defensive. 

With sharp movements of her hands she parried his strikes, before she thrust her blade forward to drive Turdina back. The blow missed when her fast and surprisingly pretty opponent weaved under it and capitalized, catching her arm. “Eh?!”

Jara struggled to break free of Turdina’s grip, but he turned around, pulling himself against her and driving his elbow into her armored corset at the stomach. “OOF!”

Elbowing her a second time, then a third, Turdina used the motion to hoist Jara up and throw her down into the dirt.

“Whoa, did you see that?!” Noxic cried out to Typhus.

Typhus did but he wasn’t sure he could believe it. “Yeah, is that one a human, too?”

Dipper didn’t know what to think anymore. “They’re… good.”

“Really good!” Mabel said excitedly.

Janna smugly smirked. “Told you.”

Laid out on her back, Jara recovered and rolled away, narrowly avoiding a stomp from Turdina that left a spider-web of cracks on the ground. Back onto her feet, her cape unfurled behind her, she looked in surprise at the human in front of her. _“I could feel that!”_

Star’s movement didn’t escape her notice; she looked at the Magical Princess leaping to her left and aiming her wand. “Dagger Crystal Heart Attack!”

Jara grabbed her cape and swung it around herself to defend against this ray, but while the energy scattered, the razor sharp crystalline hearts poked right through her mantle and slashed across her body. “ARGH!”

She stumbled back, looking from her damaged cape to Star. Seeing her face clearly, she tensed up for a second as she studied her face. _“Those marks…!”_

Turdina came down on her with a flying kick, but missed as Jara ignored him completely and rushed straight for Star, blade glowing threateningly. “Whoa! Star, look out!”

Star heeded the warning, ducking under Jara’s first swing, and back flipping from the following blow. Landing on her feet, Star used her wand to block Jara’s next swing, energy crackling from their respective weapons before Star parried Jara upward. She twirled out of the way of Jara’s furious lunge, but before she could utter another spell, Jara came around and forced her to block with her wand.

Holding back the glowing blade, Star twisted the handle of her wand and pointed its face at Jara. “Laser Beam Blast!”

The wand went off, the beam of energy it fired knocking Jara back from Star and creating the opening Turdina needed to connect his second flying kick–launching Jara off her feet and to the ground in front of her allies. 

Growling, she got up and screamed. “Noxic! I need Scabs!” 

Noxic looked down at his hands, then at Jara. “I don’t know if I can even summon ‘em here!”

“Do it, if you’re not going to fight yourself, coward!” 

Turdina looked at Star. “Wow, you really ticked her off.”

Star nodded, as she tossed her wand to her other hand. “Yeah.”

Typhus smacked Noxic on the shoulder roughly. “You better do something quick.”  
“Hey I’m workin’ on it!” Noxic held his hand aloft, arcs of electricity jumping up his forearm and between his fingers.. “All right then, here goes! Hey you Scabs, time to break up this strike!”

On the porch, the comic grew hot in Dipper’s hands. “Ah! Ow!” 

Dropping it to protect his fingers, he jumped back in time to avoid over a dozen jets of flame that shot from the book in every direction. “Whoa!

Flabber jumped back from the jets of flame as they shot around the porch. “Goodness gracious great balls of fire!”

Janna ducked under one of the flames. “The comic responded to that guy!”

The flames shot towards Noxic, landing in front of him and Typhus. Strange faceless humanoids wearing yellow and black bodysuits and armor evoking the image of an angry hornet, the loud buzzing they let out as they readied wicked red hot blades made the comparison more frighteningly apt.

“Get in there and help Jara take care of those brats!” Noxic shouted, and the Scabs charged at Star and Turdina.

He turned to Typhus. “You wanna get in there too, man?”

“No way, I never fight with a hangover,” Typhus answered, “Only when I’m sober. Or drunk, baby! Hahaha!” 

Noxic slapped his forehead. “Remind me to get you all of the booze, so we don’t have to do this again!”

“Kill the girl with the ponytail!” Jara yelled at the Scabs. “The other is mine alone!”

Star grinned. “You really want a piece of me, huh?!”

“As many as I can hack from you, magic girl!” Jara yelled as she shot ahead of her Scabs for Star.

Turdina got ready. “Here we go, then!”

Star raised her wand. “Shooting Star Explosion!” 

Unleashing her beam whip, Jara slashed through the spinning stars the wand fired, and lashed it at both Star and Turdina, scattering them. Landing away from Turdina, Star flipped and danced around Jara’s laser whip to strike her with another magical blast. The red-clothed warrior scattered with her cape as she closed the distance again. 

Rolling up onto his feet, Turdina faced the Scabs and ran to meet their charge. Jumping over the first one’s slash, he landed on its shoulder and kicked off it. Arms out, he front-flipped over the rest of them, avoiding the reaching swings of their jagged weapons. 

Landing behind the last one, he dropped down and performed a quick sweep, sending it to the ground with a thud. The other Scabs scrambled forth and swung their weapons down to chop up Turdina, but he rolled back and jumped onto his feet. 

A Scab lunged forward of the scrambling crowd. thrusting a blade for his head, but Turdina got inside and punched it in the gut, the blow lifting it off its feet and leaving it open for a spinning high kick into its side. “HIYAH!”

Janna blinked in surprise as the Scab was thrown a considerable distance. “… Whoa.”

Dipper agreed. “Yeah, she’s really good.”

Turdina hopped back from the blades of the other Scabs, ducking under a stab to kick the attacker upside its head. When another tried to pounce on him, he caught and hip-threw it into two more trying to flank him. 

As he got back up, he noticed Misao still fainted near the edge of the battle. “Star, I need some cover!”

Star ducked under a particularly vicious swing from Jara. “You got it!” 

“No you do not!” Jara’s next blow was much faster and Star blocked it. “I will not let a cheek-marked child get the better of me!”

Jara’s snarl struck a chord with Star, but she really didn’t have time to dwell on it. “You just did! Cupcake Blast!”

Realizing that the wand’s face was again pointed at hers too late, Jara couldn’t stop the magical cupcake beam covering her mask in a fluffy and creamy magical confection. 

Jara stumbled back, trying to wipe it off in vain. “What is this?! Why is it so aggravatingly delicious?!”

Facing Turdina and the Scabs, Star skipped, hopped, then leaped high in the air, and thrust her wand above her head. “Supersonic Leech Bomb!”

Bright cyan beams became glowing cyan leeches that stuck to the arms, legs, and torsos of the Scabs. Turdina turned and scooped up Misao, running as fast as he could as the leeches beeped in rising frequency. After the last beep, the leeches grew brighter and exploded, tearing the Scabs apart.

Star landed in front of the cyan-colored explosion with her back to it. Her eyes and the hearts on her cheeks glowing faintly as the blast cast her in silhouette.

“Ohhh… yeah!” Star said between pants to catch her breath. “My wand _works!”_

“She is so cool!” Mabel cried out as Turdina reached Dipper and set Misao down at his feet.

Dipper looked at him, and quickly looked back up at the fire and smoke rising from Star’s explosive attack. “Are you guys doing all right?”

“Oh, we’re doing fine. We do this kind of stuff all the time,” Turdina insisted. “You might want to get inside before stuff really starts blowing up…”

Dipper picked up Misao. “Okay, uh… be careful.”

Turdina threw Dipper a casual salute as he ran back to rejoin Star. “Will do, thanks!”

Mabel watched Dipper watch Turdina run back to the fight, and smirked. “Amazing, huh?”

“Yeah…” Dipper replied absently. 

He noticed the mischievous grin on his sister’s face, and rolled his eyes.

“Now is so not the time for this, get inside the house!” He demanded as he took Misao over the threshold.

While everyone at the house was well-impressed, Drew couldn’t really appreciate the display. He, Jo, and Roland only succeeded in making Jara angry and she slapped them around for it. Compared to Princess Turdina, to say nothing of Star’s brilliance, they had been flailing like idiots!

Great, he had summoned the Magnavores and couldn’t even fight them.

“They’re so strong,” Roland said as he got up.

Jo was furious. “What happened?! We wished for their powers and their weapons, why can’t _we_ fight them?!”

Drew looked at her. “We didn’t ask for their skills.”

Jo recalled the specifics of the wish. “No, we wished for their powers, weapons, and…”

_“Whoa, no! We don’t want to become them… literally… We only want their powers and equipment. That stuff.”_

_“Yeah, don’t change us into the actual people themselves.”_

Now Jo felt stupid; she _hated_ feeling stupid. “Argh! Now what do we do?! All of this stuff’s junk!”

“It’s not junk,” Roland said as he finished standing. 

Jo got up. “It is! We’re powerful, but Jara danced all over us! It wasn’t even fair! We may as well be throwing rocks at her!”

Drew was about to agree with Jo there, but he remembered something. “Wait, that’s it.”

Roland and Jo looked over, as Drew dispelled the Stinger Blade–he wasn’t going to need it. “We may not be able to fight.”

Reaching to his leg, he unholstered the Input Magnum and raised it up. “But you don’t need to be a martial arts master to shoot a gun.”

Jara’s whip cut through the billowing smoke of the explosion, revealing all of the Scabs were back on their feet and regenerating. Their blown apart bodies being repaired by what looked like tens of thousands of hornets that lay inside of their body. The Scabs themselves staggered and twitched as they repaired their damage, advancing slowly towards Star.

“Ooh, that’s weird,” Star whispered.

The nearest Scab finished its repairs and jerkily rushed towards her. It swung and she smartly caught and guided the weapon away with her wand. When it brought it back to decapitate her, she flowed under it with the grace of a ballet dancer, got behind it, and twirled around to point her wand at its back. 

“Stardust Daisy Devastation!” She cheered, and blasted a hole through the Scab. Turdina followed up landing a flying kick into its chest and sending it staggering back into the arms of the other Scabs. 

“Star, you doing all right?” He asked. 

He saw the holed Scab repairing its damage, the countless wasps buzzing as they resealed the wound. “What the…?”

Star twirled her wand. “Gross, right?”

Having cleaned her mask off, Jara cracked her whip. “Our Scabs can repair any damage. I can only hope you are not nearly as durable!”

Just as Star and Turdina prepared to take her up on that challenge, Drew shouted out to them. “Get on the ground, quick!”

Turdina went to look back, but Star tackled him to the ground, as yellow beams lanced through the air above them and shot through the heads of the Scabs, destroying them with bright flashes and puffs of blue electricity. This time, they didn’t get up.

Star and Turdina looked back, to see the Beetleborgs training their Input Magnums on the dissolving Scabs.

“No!” Jara angrily snarled.

Noxic jumped in surprise. “H-hey, no fair! How’d you know their weakness?!”

Drew aimed his blaster at her, Jo and Roland following suit. “It’s your turn!”

Jara quickly drew her cape around herself as Drew fired repeatedly. The beams traveled in wild arcs and angles away from Jara, just like before.

Beside him, Roland and Jo pulled back the slides of their Input Magnums, and entered different codes on their weapons’ keypads: 010 and 818 respectively. 

“Get her!” Drew shouted.

“Take this!” Roland shouted, and unleashed an icy blue beam from the Input Magnum that quickly froze Jara’s cape rather than bounce off. With a cry of shock, Jara stumbled back as the cape froze against her body.

“What?! Ah! C-Cold! Cold!” The Magnavore cried out, trying to pull the cape from her skin.

Jo fired her Input Magnum next. “Let me help you with that!”

A stream of bright red and pink flame leaped from her Input Magnum’s barrel and engulfed Jara.

“Everything is burning!” The Magnavore screamed.

Noxic panicked, and hurried over to Jara, Typhus at his heels. “Whoa! Stop drop and roll! Stop drop and roll!”

Roland pointed his Input Magnum at the two of them. “You’re next, Magnacreeps!”

“Creeps?! Hey, I take offense to that!” Noxic shouted as he tried to pat out the fire. “I’m a weirdo, not a creep!”

“Yeah, me too! I respect women, baby!” Typhus also corrected before he kicked dirt on Jara's face. “Quick, rub her face in the ground so her face so her hair don’t catch.”

“I hate all of you!” Jara shouted as the fire was put out.

Noxic and Typhus both helped her smoldering body up, and faced the Beetleborgs. 

“Just you wait, you jerks! We’ll be back!” Noxic shouted at them.

Typhus shook his fist at them. “Yeah, when I get over this hangover, you’re goners, baby!”

All three vanished in a swirl of esoteric flames. Already destroyed, and without their masters around, the remains of the Scabs quickly crumbled to dust, and blew away with the wind.

**@@@@@**

The battle, it seemed, was over. A few seconds passed, and when it looked like nothing else was going to happen, Dipper sighed in relief. “I think that’s it for now.”

Janna peered out of the doorway. “Shame they didn’t finish off that red chick.”

Mabel leaned out over her. “We’ll get her next time.”

Dipper didn’t like that there would be a next time.

A groggy groan from Misao brought his attention to the young woman he cradled in his arms. She was regaining consciousness.

“Ugh… are those monsters gone?” She mumbled wearily as she settled more comfortably.

Mabel turned to her. “Oh it was amazing, you missed the whole fight!”

“Yeah, the Beetleborgs and Star chased them off,” Dipper said as he looked back up the path.

He set her down, and helped her steady herself.

Looking up the path, Misao gave a start when she saw the Beetleborgs in their gleaming armor. “Whoa.”

With everything clear, Star stood up, followed by Turdina. “That was awesome.”

Turdina faced her, smiling. “I know, right?”

The two high-fived. “Fighting monsters is back on the menu!”

Drew somberly holstered his Input Magnum. They had won the battle, but he couldn’t feel the satisfaction; too much weighed on him now. He faced Star and Turdina, his friend and sister following.

“Thanks,” he said humbly, “You saved us back there.”

Turdina nodded to Drew. “Don’t worry about it; nobody’s hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Jo grumbled.

“I think Jara would’ve needed to do a lot more damage to actually hurt us,” Roland realized as he checked his suit’s systems. It was indeed the case; damage was light, just the exterior most armor having the worst of it.

He looked at the Magical Princess and her friend. “I think it’s more impressive that she couldn’t really touch either of you.”

“Yeah,” Jo agreed, “You two were amazing.”

Turdina could not resist the buff to his ego. “Well, me and Star do fight monsters all the time.”

Star agreed. “Oh yeah! I’ve been trained to do it since I was, like, three, and Marco’s a karate master.”

Roland, Jo, and Drew looked at Turdina. “Marco?”

Like it were an afterthought, Star pointed her wand at Turdina. “Oh yeah! Radiant Shadow Transform!”

In a flash, Princess Marco Turdina was simply Marco Diaz again, the long flowing hair, makeup, and fluttery eyelashes disappearing in an instant. Feeling his face, with some uncertainty, Marco realized that he still _felt_ stunningly beautiful, but all things considered? He kind of liked it.

“Well, if all the explosions and beams didn’t confirm it, your wand’s definitely working,” he said.

Star excitedly clutched her wand to her chest, brimming with happiness.

“I know, it’s so great!” She said excitedly.

Turdina’s abrupt and unceremonious transformation to Marco surprised Dipper as he arrived with his sister, Janna, and Misao.

His gaze lingered long enough for Marco to notice and look back towards him. “What?”

“Huh?” Dipper said quickly after him.

“Did you want something…?” Marco said.

“No I, uh, was surprised, that’s all,” Dipper quickly said.

Marco flushed a little. “Oh, okay.”

Dipper looks away, his cheeks a bit red. “Yeah, okay.”

Mabel saw that, and bit her lower lip as she repressed a high-pitched squeal.

“So what’s going on, are we turning these guys back to normal or what?” Marco asked.

“We need to, right now,” Drew said firmly.

Jo turned to her brother. “What?!”

“Drew!” Roland exclaimed.

Drew explained himself promptly. “Our wish brought the Magnavores here. So if we undo the wish, the Magnavores will go back too, right?”

Roland paused. “Yeah, I guess that would be the case.”

Dipper, his flush clearing up, delivered the bad news. “Except you can’t undo the wish.”

Drew felt cold inside his armor. “What?”

“Really?” Jo asked, hopeful.

Flabber appeared on her shoulder, barely six inches tall. “I’m really sorry guys, I can’t take it back.”

Drew recoiled a full step back. “What? Why not?!”

“I have some theories, but I need to do some research and figure out what exactly Flabber can or can’t do with the book,” Dipper replied.

Drew’s heart fell into his stomach, and his shoulders sagged. “Then they’re just out there, liable to do whatever.”

Nothing about that sounded good to Roland. “If they hurt someone or try to take over the world…”

Janna, who’d been paying attention, quite crassly illuminated it. “Then it’ll be all your fault.”

Marco looked at her. “Janna, not cool.”

Janna gestured to Dipper. “Hey, you and him did say this was gonna happen.”

“Well yeah, but you didn’t need to put it like that.”

Drew brought his hand to the crown of his helmet and turned away, shaking his head. “No, no… the Magnavores are the cruelest, most evil creatures to ever exist in the comic. Here in the real world, they’re going to cause havoc like nothing anyone has seen before.”

Misao gasped. “They’re _that_ bad?”

He turned to face her. “You have no idea. If they aren’t stopped, they’ll exterminate all life on the planet!”

Star struck out at that hysteria. “Then we’ll stop them!”

Everyone’s attention was pulled to her, as Drew shook his head.

“Wait-” He began, only to be cut off.

“It’s not like we _can’t_ do it. You guys have that tough armor and cool blasters. With you, Marco, and me? I think we can kick their butts,” she said with all confidence.

Jo nodded enthusiastically. “You’re darn right; we have the powers so we may as well do something with them!”

Dipper protested. “It will not be that easy.”

Roland wasn’t sold on it, either. “Yeah, in case you didn’t see? We got our butts kicked.”

“Yeah, you did,” Janna added.

Misao hadn’t seen it. She looked at Janna. “How bad was it?”

“It was embarrassing.” Janna held up her phone. “I filmed it and I don’t even want to post it because it’s _so_ cringe.”

Dipper confirmed this with a grim nod, and Misao winced. “Oof.”

Drew hung his head for a brief moment. Star was right, so was Jo. They had the powers now, and like Drew said to Dipper before he got bodied by Jara… he’d be a superhero if that’s what called for it.

That he got bodied by Jara was the problem. “We made this wish, so we _have_ to fight them, even if we’re no good at it.”

“If we’re bad at fighting, we have to get better at it,” Jo said, “And the only way we’ll get better is with experience,”

“And~ with the help and training of a too cool karate master!” Star added.

She twirled around and gestured with both hands to Marco. “I present to you, Marco Diaz.”

Marco was taken aback. “W-what? Me train them? I’m not a teacher… I mean, I’ve helped other students at the dojo and I’ve learned basically enough that Sensei Brantley lets me run classes for him when he can’t…”

Which, barring one student, actually went pretty well.

“That sounds exactly like you should be able to train them,” Dipper pointed out.

Mabel clasped her hands together. “Could you, please? You saw it, they need help.”

Drew’s tone was grave, as he directly implored Marco. “We need to be able to do more than just shoot at them.”

Marco held up his hands. “Yeah but I can only teach so much. I mean, this sounds like you need actual military training.”

Star leaned against Marco and flashed him an encouraging smile. “I can do that! I’ve been trained by the Mewni royal guard since I was three, remember?”

“Star, medieval combat training isn’t the same thing,” Marco said. “I think they need something more modern.”

Mabel clapped her hands together. “My Sherpa can teach them that! He’s a veteran from like four wars!”

Drew was surprised, Old Man Pines? “Really?”

Dipper grimaced. “I don’t know…”

“Hold it, we can’t go telling everyone we’re Beetleborgs!” Jo argued.

“As long as we don’t tell him why they need the training, it’ll be fine,” Mabel reassured them.

That sounded to Dipper like something Mabel threw in for sitcom style hijinks; if they did get training from Grandpa Shermie they probably wouldn’t need to lie. He knew fully of what happened in Gravity Falls years ago and understood the secrecy about it–even if he wanted to absolutely murder his younger brothers for what they did.

“Let’s just see if he’ll say yes at all,” he suggested.

“I hope he does–we need all the help we can get,” Drew said.

In spite of his reservations, Marco wasn’t going to actually turn these guys down, especially since they were so bad at fighting. Of course, he couldn’t say no to an opportunity to fight the Magnavores either.

After Ludo’s guys stopped bothering Star, he missed getting into those kinds of fights.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything I know–and back you up against the Magnavores.”

Mabel gasped and hugged Marco. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Uh, thanks…” Marco barely managed as he was enveloped by the taller girl and broke into a blush.

“You’re the best!” Star joined the hug as she praised her, and his blush grew brighter.

“Hey, that call for help ain’t limited to non-Phasms, is it?” Flabber asked from Star’s shoulder now.

“Of course it’s not!” Star replied.

Dipper hesitated. Trusting any being this powerful, and irresponsible, was a non-starter for him.

“I’m not sure…”

Flabber insisted. “You don’t need to worry about me, Pine Tree, I’m really sorry about this, so I’ll help anyway I can! Whatever you need, you can count on the Flabster!”

“I don’t see a problem,” Marco said.

Dipper looked at him. “Huh?”

“Really?!” Flabber asked.

Marco looked from Flabber and Star to Dipper. “If he’s serious about helping out, we should give him a chance. Besides, you said you need to research what he can or can’t do, right?”

“I’m a Phasm for the Forces of Good, you know? If this is my boo-boo? Then I want to help kiss it better.”

Dipper looked to the others, who were in agreement, and conceded. “Well, you can start to help by _never_ calling me Pine Tree. We can figure out where to go from here next when I get my research equipment.”

Flabber cheered. “Flab out! You got it! I think we’re gonna get along great… uh...”

“It’s Dipper,” he said.

“Honestly my next guess was going to be Mason.”

“That’s definitely not it!” Dipper quickly snapped.

Drew was relieved. “Thanks.”

Jo clenched her hands into fists, excited she would get to be a Beetleborg for another day. “Yes!”

“Great!” Roland cheered.

Dipper turned to Drew, Jo, and Roland. “I guess if we’re all on the same page then, it’s fine to transform back.”

The Beetleborgs looked at each other, and in a moment of silent debate all came to an agreement. Drew stepped forward, and held out his hand.

“Back Blast!” He commanded.

Light swirled around Drew like a whirling tornado, and the Blue Stingerborg armor was gone, coming together into the form of a rhinoceros beetle-shaped device that landed in his hand. He looked at it in surprise, the wings opening to reveal a miniature figurine of the Blue Stingerborg inside.

Jo and Roland transformed back themselves, and held aloft their own similarly styled Beetle Bonders.

“Huh, the old style Beetle Bonders,” Roland realized.

“It’s really straight out of the book, the new bonders weren’t available until the 20th anniversary issue in 2010,” Jo said.

Drew had a thought about that. “Huh.”

“What?” Dipper asked.

Before he could elaborate on it, the sound of sirens approaching from the distance filled the air, and Flabber brought his fingers to his lips as if to chomp on his nails in anxiety. “The cops, and they’re heading this way!”

“Someone must’ve heard the fight and called them,” Roland realized.

“We need to go,” Misao suggested.

Janna agreed. “Yeah, we should not be hanging around a freshly broken into abandoned house that looks like a battlefield.”

Flabber nudged Janna. “Don’t you worry about the mess, I’ll just use a little of the Flib Flab Spic’n’Span to clean up around here, nobody’ll be the wiser.”

“Yeah, but how are we going to get out of here without the cops seeing us?” Roland asked.

Star quickly pulled out a pair of red-handled scissors. “Don’t worry, I got it! Where are we going?”

Mabel gasped. “The Dimensional Scissors…!”

“The what?” Misao asked.

“Zoom Comics,” Roland answered Star.

“Where’s that?” Star asked

Marco took the scissors. “I know where that is.”

To Misao’s astonishment, Marco dug the scissors into the air and sliced upward, carving open a literal portal in reality. Flabber was surprised to see it as well.

“Flab out!” He exclaimed. “Those are some snappy snippers!”

As Janna jumped through the portal first, Marco stuffed the scissors into his hoodie pocket. “Hey, let’s mosey.”

Jo and Roland didn’t need to be encouraged further, following Janna through the portal. Mabel went next, with a still astounded Misao right behind her. Finally, Drew, Dipper, and lastly Marco stepped through the portal and it sealed up. The portal closed, Flabber vanished in a swirl of colorful, cartoonish light just as the first fire truck and police cars came around the bend–to find a serene and untouched vineyard that hadn’t been the site of a battle and a house that hadn’t been blasted with narwhals.

**@@@@@**

Coming through the portal last, Marco stood next to Dipper as it closed up, taking evidence of their presence at Hillhurst with it. They were in the back alley behind Zoom Comics, out of sight from the street and any possible witnesses. As soon as they were in the clear, Misao was the first to let out a long sigh of relief and she leaned against Mabel.

“That… that happened,” she said, at a loss for words to describe _what_ had happened.

“Welcome to Tuesday,” Marco said.

“But it’s Saturday,” Star pointed out.

Marco let that one slide. “You’ll get used to it, this kind of stuff really happens all the time for me and Star.”

Dipper disagreed. “This isn’t something we can file under ‘happens all the time.’”

“If you file it under fighting the forces of evil, then yeah,” Star said.

The group headed towards the street, Mabel pulling out her phone. “Well, if we’re fighting evil we need to stay in touch. I am taking all phone numbers, emails, instas, and snapchats. We also need to decide where we’re going to meet up and when.”

“We can meet here and head out to wherever we need to be,” Roland said, “We can keep the talk about Beetleborgs stuff to when we’re not around other people.”

“We can’t tell anyone who doesn’t need to know, this is our mess to clean up,” Jo emphasized with a critical look at Misao and Janna.

Janna was offended by the very inference. “Hey, I’m not a narc.”

Misao agreed. “Neither am I!”

Jo nodded. “Good.”

“Then that’s decided! So we begin our conspiracy to save the world” Mabel declared.

Dipper grimaced a little.

“I guess it is that, huh?” He asked.

Marco spoke. “I’ll talk to Sensei Brantley about letting you three join the dojo. He’s probably going to flip when he hears I’m ready to step up and teach.”

“Mabel and I will talk to our Grandpa about any other training,” Dipper said.

“Thanks, man,” Roland said.

Drew nodded. “Yeah.”

As they rounded the corner, they found Shermie’s SUV was gone. Nano’s motorcycle was still there, though. Heather was outside, texting on her phone, when she noticed the group plus three. Immediately she lit up in relief.

“Hey, you guys, how’d everything go?” She asked, expectantly.

For a brief instant, Drew hesitated, and glanced away from Heather towards the exterior posters on the comic shop. Once more, he saw the poster of the Beetleborgs, and a bitterly funny thought occurred to him.

It really was the least of his problems.

“Trip and Van tried to lock us up in Hillhurst and prank us,” he said before Dipper or Roland could answer.

He took the rewrapped comic from Dipper, and held it up. “But Trip was nice enough to give me the comic.”

Heather’s eyes shot wide in her amazement. “What, really?!”

Taken off guard by her brother’s sudden confidence and clarity speaking to Heather, Jo quickly scrambled to keep up. “Yeah, they made Drew go into the house to get it on a bet, but that was easy.”

That amazed Heather even further. “You went _inside Hillhurst?”_

Roland jumped in. “Yeah, it’s just a creepy old house. There wasn’t anything inside but broken glass and garbage.”

“Those spoiled idiots were the ones who got scared,” Misao chimed in.

Janna, finished giving Mabel her number, immediately brought up the video of the Vanderhoffs running out of the house in a crazed panic. “Check it out.”

Heather looked at the video, astonished. “Oh my gosh, this is amazing.”

Drew shrugged his shoulders. “I only wish I could’ve seen their faces, but oh well.”

He handed the comic to her.

Heather looked at it, hesitant to take it. “Huh?”

“Want to read it?” He asked.

Heather looked between him and the comic, a slight apprehension flashing in her eyes. As though he read her thoughts perfectly through them, he gestured to the comic. “Everyone should check out comic book history, right?”

Realizing Drew didn’t have another shoe to drop, Heather smiled again and took the comic. “You know I have to.”

“Just be careful with it, okay?” He asked as he opened the door for her.

“Sure…” Heather assured him while walking inside.

Drew followed her inside, and Roland let out a surprised “Huh.”

“Where did _that_ come from?” Jo asked.

Roland shrugged his shoulders. “I guess he found his nerve.”

Jo huffed and put on a smile. “Good.”

She went inside to make sure that this ship-launch didn’t turn into a trainwreck, leaving Roland to turn to Dipper and Mabel.

“So while you’re waiting for your Gramps, want to get that pull list going?” He suggested.

“Sure!” Mabel chimed.

Star was intrigued. “A list of what?”

“Comics,” Marco explained to her, “It’s a list of books so readers can keep up on stories they like.”

Star looked at the comic book shop, and then to Marco. “I like comics, let’s get one, too!”

After this afternoon, sitting down and reading comic books for the rest of the day sounded great to Marco.

“Sure, I’ve got some cash to burn.” He said as he walked in with Star’s excitedly nudging him along. Janna went in right behind them.

Roland, Dipper and Mabel were about to follow next, when Misao spoke. “Dipper, Mabel, if I may?”

The Pines twins stopped to face Misao, who was typing out a text message. Looking up from the phone, she smiled warmly to the two.

“I wanted to say that, in spite of how scary everything was, I had a wonderful, exciting time today. So thank you for running off with me.”

“It was pretty exciting, yeah,” Mabel said, returning the smile.

“I’m just glad we’ve been able to keep you out of harm’s way… mostly,” Dipper humbly said.

Misao continued. “Anyway, everything that’s happened today has gotten me thinking: I am set to go to live with a rich, famous family, and spend my school year at a fancy school… but if I did that I wouldn’t be able to spend time with the first friends I’ve ever made in America, so I think I will be changing my school arrangements.”

Mabel gasped. “Aww! You want to go to Echo Creek Academy with us?”

Misao nodded. “It’s very last minute, I’ll have to change my living arrangements too. You don’t think it would be a burden on your Grandfather if he allowed me to stay the night while I made them, do you?”

“Not at all,” Dipper replied, “Grandpa Shermie’s a generous guy, and there should be plenty of room at his place.”

“Besides, the longer we stay off Shego’s radar, the better, right?” Mabel asked.

Roland did a double-take. “Wait, what about Shego?!”

“Yeah! Since it’s a Saturday, once we’re all unpacked we can stay up all night watching movies and playing games!” Mabel said, bursting with joy at the prospect of a sleepover.

Misao agreed. “Yes!”

Dipper was pretty sure that they’d be both out by nine, after all the excitement today.

“Hold up,” Roland interrupted, “What’s going on with Shego?”

Misao sent the message that she’d been typing. “Oh, she tried to kidnap me at the airport. Dipper and Mabel rescued me.”

Roland looked between the twins. “Seriously?!”

Were these two just magnets for chaos? “This stuff has just been happening to you two all day?!”

Dipper shrugged his shoulders. “You _will_ get used to it, Roland, don’t worry.”

Roland sighed in resignation. Dipper was right, this was his life now.

“I don’t have any choice but to, don’t I?” He asked.

“Yep! Denial will not make it go away,” Mabel said.

She looped an arm around Misao’s and led her to the door, “Embrace the weird, become the silly, and we will save the world.”

As they went inside, Roland looked to Dipper. “You know what, man?”

“What?”

“Earlier today, I was worried about you two. I thought you were going to be all weird and stuff, like the last few times.”

Dipper grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I hope we’ve gotten better about it.”

“Oh no, you’re still weird and stuff,” Roland corrected him, before he smiled.

“But you two have grown up a lot… I mean… way more than I imagined. What the heck happened to you guys?”

Dipper managed to smile again, and decided that this was as good a time as any. Gesturing for Roland to walk with him, he began.

“Well, it all started when our parents decided we could use some fresh air. They sent us up to Gravity Falls, Oregon to live with our Great Uncle Stan at his Museum of Mystery…”


	13. Hotel California

**|Hotel California|**

The sun was going down by the time Shermie pulled up to Zoom Comics. Dipper, Mabel and Misao were waiting out in front of the store with Drew, Jo, Roland, and Heather. After a few hours of hanging out and hearing Dipper and Mabel’s story, Star, Marco, and Janna had gone their separate ways. Even as Shermie reached the curb, there were still plenty of questions for Dipper and Mabel.

“So everything just went right back to normal as soon as Bill was destroyed?” Roland asked.

Dipper nodded. “Everything.”

“Even the people who died?” Jo asked.

“Nobody died… I think? But everything went back to normal like it never happened. Everyone remembered though–there’s a law against talking about it.”

Heather shuddered. “I’d never want to talk about it, either.”

Dipper and Mabel’s talk about his time in Gravity Falls had pulled Heather in. Since Heather was already one not bothered by the supernatural as it was, Dipper let her in on the conversation. It was good practice to avoid talking about Beetleborg stuff, everyone agreed to that.

Something bothered Drew. “Wait, what happened to the journals, did they go back to normal too after Bill burned them?”

“Yeah, but we threw them down a bottomless pit,” Mabel said.

“Wait, doesn’t stuff that goes down the pit eventually come out?” Roland asked.

“Grunkle Ford did some calculations, and threw them down into it at a point where it’d take at least 10,000 years for them to come out again.” Dipper explained.

After that, the town covered the hole with a concrete slab. They’d never see the Journals again in their lifetimes. At least Dipper hoped so.

“So,” Jo asked, “What was it like to kill something with your bare hands?”

Drew, Roland, and Heather all gave Jo a strange look.

Dipper scowled. _“Immensely satisfying.”_

He felt no guilt or remorse about what he did to Dippy Fresh, and he never would.

 _“Oh yes, he’s the one,”_ Jo thought appreciatively, while ignoring the strange looks given to her.

Shermie stepped out of the SUV and walked around it. He called over to them. “Dipper, Mabel, your stuff has gotten there and is ready to be unpacked.”

Mabel brightened. “Oh, Sherpa! Did Waddles make it okay?”

Shermie frowned. “You mean the pet pig you didn’t tell me you were bringing with you?”

He opened the back seat, and there sitting by the driver’s side window with a seatbelt and everything was a large pink but shockingly adorable pig, who let out an oink in greeting.

“He’s some pig,” Shermie said good-naturedly, “Never thought I’d ever meet one with such polite manners and half a mind for safety.”

Seeing Waddles, Misao was overcome by the pig’s adorableness and gasped. “He’s even cuter in person!”

Heather joined her side to get a look, and fell under the same spell of cuteness. “Aw! He’s even buckled in!”

Mabel thrust her chest out with pride as the two girls cooed and giggled over her pet. “I told you, Waddles is the cutest pig in the entire universe.”

Jo, who was not easily taken in by cute pigs, shook her head at the sugary display of girliness. “Ugh.”

Dipper fist-bumped Roland and Drew in succession. “Well, we’re out of here. See you guys at school if not tomorrow.”

“Later man,” Drew said.

“Yeah, see ya,” Roland said.

Jo winked at Dipper. “I hope we have the same classes, Dipper.”

Dipper managed a weak, awkward smile. This was going to be a long school year.

Misao climbed into the SUV and immediately cuddled Waddles, while Mabel slid in next to her. Shermie got into the driver’s seat, and started the engine as everyone buckled in. On the radio the beginning of a live performance of an old classic, “Hotel California” by the Eagles, began to play.

Mabel turned to Drew, Jo, Roland, and Heather. She waved to them. “See you, guys~!”

The SUV pulled off as Mabel waved out the window at them, and the kids left behind watched it go down the street until it made a corner.

Roland looked back at the shop. “It’s almost closing time. You guys want to help get this place buttoned up?”

Jo looked over at him. “Sure.”

Heather took off her apron. “I already closed up the café, so I’m going to get home too. I’ve got a _ton_ of homework to do and I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

Drew nodded. “Okay, later Heather.”

“See you, Drew.” Heather said as she flashed him a smile.

As Heather began to walk away, Jo suddenly elbowed him in the back. He looked back at her, and Jo quietly nodded in Heather’s direction. Understanding her, Drew turned and called after her. “Hey, before you go?”

He went after her, and Jo turned to follow Roland inside, smiling in satisfaction. Heather stopped and turned to Drew, curious.

“What’s up?” She asked.

Drew didn’t waste any time. There was nothing to lose, nothing was difficult compared to what was to come, so he was going to make the most of it.

“I know after everything, this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but… do you want to go to the Homecoming Dance with me? Not as like, my date, but… as friends.”

Heather didn’t flinch or cringe. She smiled, albeit with a bit of sadness. “I’d love to, Drew.”

Drew’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. “R-Really?”

“But…”

It stopped.

“I wasn’t going to go to begin with,” Heather explained gently, “I have plans with my family that whole weekend, I’m not even going to be in town for it.”

Drew’s heart restarted, and despite the pain of rejection, he was buoyed. “I see… oh well, then. It’s nothing bad, is it?”

“No, just a big dumb family barbecue in Nevada,” Heather explained.

Drew smiled. “Well, I hope you have fun.”

Heather sighed dramatically, before she laughed and stepped closer to him.

“I’ll try, but family get-togethers are _the worst._ But, if you just want to hang out any other time? I’d like that.”

“Isn’t that what we already do?” Drew asked.

Heather nodded and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, but I like it so much, I think we should do it more than just here when I’m at work.”

And now Drew didn’t know what was happening anymore. He stared at Heather like she had just professed her love for him on the spot. “Uh… okay?”

Heather was positively radiant, and pulled her hand back. “Then I’ll see you later, Drew.”

With a wave, Heather slung her apron over her shoulder and walked away, leaving Drew standing there in front of Zoom Comics, frozen in shock. After a few moments, he finally moved, jumping and thrusting his fists into the air.

“YES!”

Around the corner and down the road, the flashing lights of police cars slowed Shermie down as he approached a bridge crossing the LA River. Police were cordoning off the bridge’s sidewalks, but allowing cars to pass. The Pines patriarch snorted dismissively.

“LA’s finest at work,” he grumbled.

Misao looked out the window. “What happened?”

“Probably bothering Brigid, the shtunks,” Shermie muttered.

Mabel brightened. “Miss Brigid’s still around?! I wanna go see her! She’s gonna love Waddles!”

Dipper shuddered. “Can we not?”

“I’ll introduce you to her tomorrow,” Mabel said to Misao, “She’s really nice and takes care of stray animals.”

“Oh, she sounds nice,” Misao said.

“She also steals hair from salons, so wear a hat,” Dipper warned.

Misao gasped and her hands shot to her long locks.

Mabel reached up and flicked Dipper’s ear. “She doesn’t steal hair from people–only from hair salons and pet stylists that dump it out.”

“Why?” Misao asked.

“Weaving material,” Mabel replied like that wasn’t strange at all.

“It’s _so creepy,”_ Dipper insisted.

The SUV passed the police cars and their flashing lights. Dipper looked out the window, and could see there were more emergency vehicles down in the river, and a screen was set up along the banks on both sides of the river, preventing people on the bridge from being able to look down into the water itself.

“Huh…” He murmured as he looked down at the top of the screen that spanned the river.

Shermie noticed it too with a slight scowl, and looked ahead. “Misao.”

“Ah, yes?”

“You said you were going to make new living arrangements so you could go to Echo Creek Academy with my grandkids, right?” He asked.

“That’s the plan,” she replied.

“Well, I have no problem opening my home to you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, so long as your parents are okay with it.”

Mabel erupted with joy. “Sherpa, you’re the best!”

Misao was struck by the generosity. “You’re too kind!”

“Do you think your parents will let you?” Mabel asked.

“Of course my mother will, I think I could do much better living with people who fought an all-powerful, all-seeing demon and won than the alternative.”

“It’d be cheaper, too,” Dipper said.

“That too.” Misao looked over to Shermie. “But money’s no object, Mr. Pines. If you need me to pay rent or cover any bills my being around will cause? Just name your price, Hyuuga Heavy Industries can cover it.”

Shermie hummed. “Hyuuga Heavy Industries, hm? What a small world.”

Passing the police cordon, Shermie kept driving and left the strange scene behind, entering the relatively quiet residential area of Echo Creek.

Dipper was surprised. “Your mother works for Hyuuga Heavy Industries?”

“My mother _runs_ Hyuuga Heavy Industries,” Misao corrected.

Dipper was struck. “The leading producer of super-technology in the west. No wonder Shego was after you.”

Misao grimaced. “Yeah, without a doubt.”

“Well, let her try to find you. She won’t,” Mabel said with a thumb’s up and a cheesy smile.

“And if she does? She’ll regret turning over this particular rock,” Shermie promised her. “I’ll personally show her how we Pines used to do it in Jersey!”

Misao giggled, and continued to hug Waddles. Her last year of high school was going to be more exciting than she had even imagined. Who needed a big Hollywood family and a fancy school, when she had monster hunters, magical princesses, haunted houses, and maybe the end of the world to keep her occupied.

On that note, she realized that when she called her Mom about her new school and living arrangements, she would have to make a few other arrangements.

Like Drew said, they were going to need all the help they could get.

Back under the bridge, as the Pines and their guest continued on into the night, police and first responders at and under the bridge looked on down at the river as workers from the Coroner’s office waited on the concrete banks. At the edge of the river itself, lit by the powerful headlights of a fire engine and several police cruisers, EMTs and Firefighters swept the shallow waters with large pool skimmers.

One such EMT caught something round and heavy in the net of their pool skimmer, and hoisted it out of the water and into the intense light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, we end our introductory arc. Thank you for reading, folks!


	14. Home - Epilogue

**|Home Free|**

If there was a mystery that Dipper ever wanted to sorely solve, it was the taste in architecture of the sons of Filbrick Pines. Grunkle Ford happily (and cheaply) took  
an A-Frame shack and turned it into the portal to the end of the world. Grunkle Stan would later turn that hellgate into the Mystery Shack.

Shermie, being of richer taste and more comfortable financial situation… did little better than them in Dipper’s eyes. The house was a two story Neoplasticism block that eschewed concepts such as symmetry and rationality in lieu of a expressive and progressive look that was like literally nothing on their block–except for maybe the Mexican-styled A-Frame Ranch House down the block with the two medieval towers jarringly stuck out from one side of it.

He didn’t hate either at all, though. Between this and the Mystery Shack? He’ll take squares over triangles any day.

Stepping out, Dipper’s legs almost gave out under him. This was the third busiest day of his life, and it was finally catching up with him. As he walked around the SUV to join Shermie on the sidewalk in front of the house, the rear passenger door opened and out hopped Waddles, Misao, and finally Mabel.

Misao looked up at Shermie’s house and she gasped in surprise. “Oh, how lovely!”

She turned to Shermie. “The Rietveld Schröder House?”

That’s what it was, Dipper remembered now. Then again, Euclidean Architecture wasn’t his area of expertise.

“You’re sharp as a Bowie Knife!” Shermie said with a laugh, before he elbowed  
Dipper in the side lightly.

“As far as gentile girls, you could do a lot worse than this one,” he whispered with a smirk.

Dipper growled out in hushed embarrassment, “Grandpa, _please.”_

Shermie gave his grandson a wink, and unlocked the door to his home. Crossing the threshold, Shermie led them up the stairs immediately to their right, leading them upstairs to a wide open and well-furnished living area with a skylight and broad, picture windows that occupied over half of the walls.

Misao stepped into the living area in wonder. Looking around at the spacious with a polished hardwood floor, she clasped her hands together and sighed. Opening her arms wide, she spun around to look at it all.

“It is so lovely! The decor is different, but it is a perfect recreation otherwise!” She said excitedly.

Shermie proudly raised his head. “I saw the Schroder house way back in the 80s and I was obsessed with it. When I came back to the states for good, I decided to build my own here–with a few more modern amenities.”

He clapped his hands, and all the lights came on, filling the room with a clean fluorescent glow to the delight of his guests.

“At any rate, this space is all yours to do with, just don’t burn down the house or blow out the windows. There are three beds as you can see, and if you need privacy, there’s controls for shutters that separate them into their own rooms, but two of the beds are gonna be in the same room. How you wanna divide that up is up to you.”

Shermie pointed back down the stairs they’d just come up from.

“The bathroom, kitchen, study and my bedroom are downstairs–it’s gonna be the one with my name on it, don’t go in there ever. You might end up finding me entertaining a lady friend and some things aren’t meant to be seen by young eyes.”

“Jawohl!” Misao said cheerfully.

Dipper’s disgusted expression said everything that needed to be said.

Mabel screamed internally.

Shaking off her brush with unfortunate implications, something immediately caught Mabel’s eye and her mouth fell open. Mounted on a wall, underneath a proudly displayed Israeli flag was a massive gun, the biggest gun she had ever seen! It was longer than Misao was tall, fed from above by a large box magazine. It looked like the sort of gun people would hunt elephants, dinosaurs, or tanks with. She hurried over to it.

“What is this?!” She asked.

“That is a tempermental old friend! We go all the way back to the 50s, I’ve taken to calling it my ‘schwanzstucker! Ain’t it a beaut?’” Shermie answered with a laugh.

Mabel chuckled back. “Gross, where’d you get it from?”

“An old friend back in Tel Aviv found and shipped it to me last year. ”

Mabel ran her hand along the barrel. “So this is what the internet meant about girls and cannons.”

She was in love.

“Still works, too. I take her down to the range once a month and drive everyone crazy with it. You’re more than welcome to come with me and try her yourself.”

Mabel whirled around to face her grandfather, her eyes filled with excitement, and a continuous high pitched sound of joy coming from her mouth that was making the dogs in the neighborhood bark.

Dipper liked this idea. Having a gun would probably help with their situation–and to be quite honest–this was Los Angeles after all–but on the other hand? The thought of Mabel with a gun made him nervous, and she was eyeing that cannon like she was a Police Girl or something.

“Thank you, Sherpa!” Mabel cheered. “Can we do it sometime this week? Can we go tomorrow?!”

“I don’t see any harm in taking you for a few rounds down at the range.”

“You mean a few rounds _downrange,_ ” Mabel corrected with a cheeky smile and Shermie barked out a laugh.

Dipper smiled, and lifted his arms to stretch. “Well… if you’re going to do that, maybe going to bed now is a good idea.”

Mabel put an arm around Misao. “Let me show you where we keep the linens.”

“Lead the way!” Misao said excitedly, and the two girls headed downstairs with Waddles directly behind them.

As soon as they were out of sight, Dipper turned back to his Grandfather. He breathed in and sighed. “Hey, Grandpa? You mind if we go out to the back patio and talk?”

Shermie gave him an eager nod. “Sure, boychik. What’s on your mind?”

He grinned. “But if it’s advice with the German shortcake? You’re on your own.”

Dipper quickly shook his head. “No! It’s about what happened when we went to deal with those punks.”

His Grandfather recognized the gravity of Dipper’s tone, and quickly sharpened. “What happened?”

**@@@@@**

Some twenty minutes later, Dipper and Shermie were seated under the corrugated sheet metal back patio roof in comfortable wooden chairs beside a locked icebox, the grass-covered backyard beyond it lit by a single fluorescent lamp mounted on the corner of the house. Dipper had told his Grandfather everything of what happened at Hillhurst, from the attack of its occupants, to the dealing with Flabber, to the attack from the _other_ monsters that the wish had brought into the world.

After unloading all of that, Dipper felt more tired than ever.

“So yeah… pretty good for a first day in town, huh?” He asked.

Shermie took off his glasses and looked at them, before closing and slipping them into his pocket. He then pulled his grandson over into a hug, giving him a consoling pat on the back when the hug was tightly returned.

“Sounds like the mishegas you put up with up in the Falls,” he said grimly as Dipper pulled back.

“It might be even worse, Weirdmageddon was this giant chaotic thing and everything got out of control so fast that it was impossible to not see something was wrong. We don’t know where the Magnavores have gone or what they’re up to now.”

Shermie weighed on the implications of that, and raised his hand to stop Dipper from going further. “I need a drink.”

He got up and went to the locked ice-box, and pulled out two cans of beer. Coming back over, he sat a can down beside Dipper and popped his own open and took his seat again.

Dipper looked at the can offered to him in surprise, and back up at Shermie.

“With what you’ve dealt with, boychik? You’ve earned your right. Don’t make a habit of it.” Shermie said before taking a sip.

That was a fair point. Besides, this was the least criminal thing he’d done alongside the three elders of the Pines family. Picking up his can, he popped the top and took a sip. The strong bitterness stung at him, but he found that it wasn’t as terrible as he often feared beer to be.

He looked at the label and chuckled.

“The Bigfoot.”

Of course.

“You stared down into the end of the world and it blinked, I trust you can handle some alcohol–and get those three schlemiels through this alive. The second you’re in over your head, don’t hesitate to call for your Grandpa, all right?”

Dipper hummed a bit awkwardly. “Yeah, what if I have to call Grunkle Ford for his help? Are you gonna be fine with him maybe coming down here?”

Shermie frowned, pursing his lips, and let out a harsh hum through his nose. “I can’t say I won’t smack him right in the puss when I see him, but if you need his help? I won’t say no to that yutz staying here.”

“And Grunkle Stan, too?” Dipper asked hopefully.

Shermie let out another, even harsher hum. “… Yes.”

Dipper smiled after another sip of his beer. “Mabel’s forever in your debt, trust me.”

With a laugh, Shermie knew how they could repay their debts. “You can start working it off by cleaning out the garage. I haven’t seen the floor since the Riots–but only when you’re not busy saving the world.”

Dipper pursed his lips, and suddenly all his fears about the Magnavores had a close second.

“Thanks, Grandpa.” He took another sip of his beer and gazed out at the darkness beyond the reach of the patio light.

There was so much to worry about; if he wasn’t on the verge of exhaustion, he’d be pacing himself out in the yard to it. His Grandpa was right–after Gravity Falls? He was ready to tackle any weirdness, anywhere. With Mabel, Star and Marco, and his Grandpa and Grunkles, he was confident they had a chance at getting through this.

After wishing his Grandfather a good night and finishing his beer, Dipper went upstairs to the second floor of the house. Like the bottom floor past the entryway, it was a big wall-less space, able to double as a living room and several bedrooms with the push of a button to activate moving shutters installed through the house.

Exactly as he thought, Mabel and Misao were too tired to even do that and were already asleep, huddled close together on one of the three beds on their side of the room with their arms around Waddles, who snored comfortably between them.

He smiled at the pig. “Ladies man as usual.”

Peeling off his pine-tree adorned shirt and tossing his lumberjack hat on top of his bags, Dipper went to one of them and unzipped it to pull out a blue-bound journal with a silver pine tree plated on the front.

Lying down on his bed, under the second floor’s gentle white lights, he opened and flipped through the pages. Four years of adventures, strange phenomena, and bizarre circumstances since Gravity Falls… now almost trivial compared to what lay ahead. Reaching the first open page, Dipper took a pen and got to writing.

_September 22, Los Angeles, California: Today started with a bang, and didn’t stop blowing up…_

**|Home Safe|**

With a stack of comic books in hand, and enough energy to burn despite the long day she had, Star burst through the doorway of the Diaz home the second Marco opened it. Compared to the grave concern that Dipper shared with his grandfather, the potentially apocalyptic threat to the world was as far from her mind as the other responsibilities Star usually blew off when they weren’t unignorable.

“Kids, welcome home!”

Marco’s mother Angie and his father Rafael were sitting in the living room, a spread of pizza, chicken wings, and plastic cups set on the coffee table between them and the television. The moment they came through the door, Rafael had called out to them in his usual cheerful and boisterous manner.

“Hey Dad,” Marco brightened. “Oh hey, you ordered pizza!”

Rafael got up to greet the two with a hug, when he noticed the stacks of comics both carried. “And you have brought comics!”

“We went to Zoom Comics today, and hit it off with the guys over there,” Marco explained.

“Yeah we hit it off all right,” Star added.

Marco glanced at her. “One thing led to another-”

“We basically saved their lives,” Star explained.

“Star!” Marco harshly whispered aside to her, before looking back at his Father. “And we ended up buying a bunch of books, mostly back issues of-”

Rafael had already seen the topmost book of Marco’s pile. He lit up in excitement. “Big Bad Beetleborgs!”

He embraced his son. “It is my favorite comic series! It is so wonderful that you’re interested!”

“Well, we kinda have to,” Star began.

Marco hushed her. “Shh!”

Star stiffened, finally remembering the secrecy she was sworn to. “Oh, right!”

Rafael didn’t notice the exchange, he was too busy examining one of Marco’s books and feeling nostalgic. “You know, Star, the author of these books is one of my biggest inspirations as an artist.”

“Oh?” Star asked.

“Yes, the legendary Art Fortunes himself! The hardest working, most dedicated, and brilliant comic book artist to walk the Earth since Mr. Jack Kirby,” Rafael said as he sat back down on the couch with the Beetleborgs comic still in hand.

Marco set his books down and sat next to him. Star did the same, dropping onto Marco’s lap and grabbing a piece of pizza.

“We met him once, just a year after the Beetleborgs became popular,” Rafael said.

Star gasped. “Shut the front door!”

Marco rolled his eyes; he’d heard this story enough that he could recite it word for word.

Angie brightened. “Oh yes, that was the summer after I returned from France and we got back together.”

“Yes,” Rafael said fondly, remembering that summer of love.

“We went to the San Diego Comic Convention–as I always did since I first came to America–and your mother and I took turns waiting six hours in line to get an autograph with him.”

“You waited that long?” Marco asked.

“They may as well have called it Beetle Con that year,” Angie said with a gentle laugh.

“But it was worth it!” Rafael said with excitement. “In fact, sit right here! I will get something I was going to give to Marco when he finally moved out, but I want you to see it too, Star!”

He got up, and Marco watched his Dad go upstairs, before he looked at Angie. “What is it?”

Angie clasped her hands together, excited. “Oh! Your father has a picture that Mr. Fortunes drew for him right there on the spot when we finally got to him–a token of appreciation for waiting so long in line.”

Marco was surprised. “You’ve been holding onto something like that?”

Rafael came back downstairs, with a portfolio briefcase in hand. “Here it is.”

He reached in and pulled out a picture of a humanoid creature swathed in a tattered, swirling black cloak with a white hood. Its head, mostly obscured by the hood, was insectoid with brown and orange chitinous horns that curled around the sides of his head and ended at its chin. It also had four antennae, two springing from its crown and two from its neck–all four ending in curls. The creature was standing atop a windswept cliff, holding a gnarled wooden staff above its head that gave off a brilliant white light that illuminated the picture and its dramatic scene.

Star leaned closer to the picture, her eyes growing large as she examined the photo. “Wow… that is so cool, and _so_ evil…”

“He drew that on the spot?” Marco asked, disbelieving.

The sheer quality of the art was astounding, straight out of the greatest Movie Poster art of the 80s! At a convention, for a couple of fans!

“He is the greatest artist I’ve ever seen. He drew this all in pen in just five minutes!” Rafael said.

Marco held the picture back, stunned. “This? In five minutes?”

Who did this guy sell his soul to in order to get this good?

“Oh my gosh Marco, look! Look! Look! Look! Look!” Star said quickly as she pointed in the very corner of the picture. There, in white ink, was Art Fortunes’ signature.

“Art Fortunes ‘91” it read, and at the corner of the stylish signature, was a tiny eye of providence. Star’s finger hovered over it urgently.

“It’s the tiny triangle guy Dipper told us about!”

 _“Bill Cipher,”_ Marco thought uneasily. Well, that answered his question.

Rafael looked closely at the picture, and missed the concern entirely of both teens. “Ah yes! Mr. Fortunes’ muse, he puts it in all of his books. Besides on the cover of the back of every comic, there are two more hidden usually between pages six and eighteen of each book.”

“That’s right, at the end of every year, up until four years ago, he ran a contest where people who found them would get a commissioned art piece from him for free,” Angie added.

“But eventually people on the internet were getting together to find them all and troll him with disturbing subjects to commission, like inflation and vore-”

“What and what?” Star asked.

Angie diverted that question away from the subject at hand. “Oh that’s not important, and let’s never speak of it again.”

Star nodded and decided she’d look it up on the web later. “Gotcha.”

Angie hummed and looked at Rafael for confirmation. “That was around the time he stopped interacting with fans at all, right?”

Rafael looked a bit sad. “Yes, he’s locked himself away since.”

He brightened. “But on the bright side, since then his comics have only gotten better! You picked a good time to get start, Marco! The Split-Up Saga stories are some of his best work! So much emotion, tension, and passion!”

As he swooned, Angie eagerly added. “And so many pretty girls!”

“Yes, the prettiest!”

All of that sounded great, but Marco had more important things to worry about than comic book escapism. Especially when things were escaping the comics.

On that note, he held up the picture. “Hey, is it okay if I show this to my friends?”

Rafael patted his son on the shoulder. “Of course you can, it’s yours now!”

Marco brightened. This was perfect. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Just don’t put it up on Ebay too soon, okay?” Angie jokingly asked.

Star looked at the picture, then at Marco. “Oh, don’t worry Mrs. D! We’re going to hold on tight to this one.”

“Oh yeah,” Marco said, before looking at the picture again. Such a powerful energy in the art.

Who was Art Fortunes?

**@@@@@**

After dinner was finished and his parents talked his ear off about the Beetleborgs and enough trivia to make Drew, Jo, and Roland’s heads spin, Marco retired upstairs to his room, where he was seated on his bed, sending a text message. Since it was a Saturday night, there was no reason for him to be asleep anytime soon, so both he and Star were looking through the comics they bought–with Star sprawled out at the foot of his bed reading the new books while he tackled the reissues of earlier books.

Marco Said:  
 _Is ne1 still up?_

Mabel Said:  
 _Hey Marco, this is Dipper on Mabel’s phone.  
_  
Roland Said:  
 _Yo. Wutup?_

Marco Said:  
 _Mom n Dad got me sumthin huge. A signed picture Art Fortunes drew for them in 1991._

Roland Said:  
 ** _WHAT?!?!?! HOW?!?!_**

Marco Said:  
 _They saw him @ Comic Con._

Roland Said:  
 ** _THATS AWESOME!1_**

Marco Said:  
 _Yes but look at this._

Marco Uploaded a Picture  
 _20140922_02207.jpg File Size 20.1MB_

Marco Said:  
 _Look @ bttm right corner._

Mabel Said:  
 _Bill’s symbol. He even signed his pictures with it?_

Roland Said:  
 _He stopped in the mid 90s, but yeah._

Roland Said:  
 _Becuz of the Satan Panic._

Roland Said:  
 _Becuz parents were complaining that the eye was a Satan symbol._

Mabel Said:  
 _They’d wish it were Satanic._

Roland Said:  
 _Art stopped and hid the symbol in his books 2 mock them._

Roland Said:  
 _Then made a contest for ppl to find them._

Marco Said:  
 _Dad told me abt it. Art ended the contest becuz trolls gonna troll._

Roland Said:  
 _Last contest was in 2010. U can still find the symbols in books after that tho._

“I found one!” Star suddenly called out, holding up an issue from three months back. “Page seven, bottom panel, there’s a Bill in the bottom left corner of the ‘Shattered Gate of Drakkon.’”

She giggled. “He’s got a little cane and top hat.”

Marco had seen more than enough references to Bill himself in his comics so far, too. He found another message from Roland.

Roland Said:  
 _Art sounds as bad as ur Uncle._

Mabel Said:  
 _That’s what I’m afraid of. Bill tricked my Grunkle Ford into building an Interdimensional Portal Machine so he could enter our dimension, and it might be the same thing here. What I don’t get is that if it was easy as putting his mark on stuff and passing through the comic into the real world, he’d have just done that, or just any of his other symbols anywhere else around the world to come through._

Roland Said:  
 _Yeah._

Roland Said:  
 _That doesn’t make sense._

Mabel Said:  
 _Nothing about Bill makes sense, he does things for no reason, like giving deer teeth to a kid as a gift._

Marco Said:  
 _wtf?_

Roland Said:  
 _Thats messed up._

Mabel Said:  
 _But he doesn’t interact with people for no reason. He wanted something from Art Fortunes and made some kind of deal with him, and this is the result. The best way to find out what is to talk to the man himself._

Marco Said:  
 _Yeah cool, lets casually go up 2 the biggest name in comics and ask him abt demon triangles he made deals with._

Mabel Said:  
 _I never said it’d be easy! Just that it’s what we have to do._

Marco Said:  
 _I was being sarcastic._

Mabel Said:  
 _I can’t tell that through text._

Marco Said:  
 _Thats what the is for._

Roland Said:  
 _That’s what the means._

Mabel Said:  
 _Look, I don’t text or do online stuff, okay?_

Jo Said:  
 _Hey Mabel! Is Dipper still awake? =O_

Mabel Said:  
 _This is Dipper, Mabel’s asleep._

Jo Said:  
 _How r u doing? ;)_

Mabel Said:  
 _Marco had some news, but I’m really tired and going to bed, night._

Jo Said:  
 _K night! :)_

Roland Said:  
 _Yeah. Im goin 2 bed._

Roland Said:  
 _Nite._

Marco visibly cringed away from the phone and set it down. Star noticed his reaction and turned onto her side to face him.

“What is it?” She asked.

“Nothing, just… embarrassed for somebody else,” Marco replied.

Star looked down at her comic again. “You get that a lot.”

The current issue she was reading featured Jara, who was locked in a mortal struggle with Warrior Princess Reddle, the Red Strikerborg. It was a glorious splash page right at the start of the book, a fight in media res between the two women warriors in a burning castle, oranges and yellows engulfing the interior of a medieval throne room as the Red Strikerborg used the prongs of the Striker Plasmar to hold back Jara’s blade.

Only reading three or so books so far, and it was pretty obvious that Jara hated all of the Beetleborgs for meddling in their plans, but that just reminded Star that the Jara they fought today was absolutely confused by them.

Heck, she seemed angrier at her than anyone else. _That_ was weird.

Star’s thoughts on that drained right out of her mouth in the form of some crude drool when she turned the page to the actual start of the comic. Right there on the first page was the holder of the Green Strikerborg, G-Stag, in all of his dreadlocked, shirtless, and six-packed glory. On this page, he was also waist deep in a moonlit pond and glistening.

“I love comic books,” Star purred as she leaned closer towards the page.

**|Home Alone|**

Drew and Jo’s bike ride took them five blocks in the opposite direction from Zoom Comics that the Pines left in, reaching a more recent neighborhood just a five minute walk from their High School. Unlike the vibrant and unique buildings down Shermie Pines’ street, the cul de sac they rode into was full of new, clean, but mostly identical prefabricated suburban homes with only their numbers and personal decorations really setting them apart.

Rolling up the driveway to the two car garage attached to their house, Drew swung himself off the bike and walked it to the garage to open it. Jo came up the driveway behind up, hopping off her still-rolling bike and jogging with it to a stop next to him.

“Man, how long has today been? Three? Four weeks?” She asked as Drew entered the code for the garage door.

Drew made a short laugh and stepped back as the garage door opened. “Don’t even get me started on that.”

Today felt like the longest day of Drew’s life, and among his many thoughts was the realization that there would be even longer days to come. As long as there were Magnavores in their world and the Beetleborgs had to fight them, at least.

On the other hand? Heather likes hanging out with him and wants to do it more. Sure, he wouldn’t be going with her to the Homecoming Dance in two weeks, but there were so many more opportunities to do it now!

“Mom and Dad aren’t back,” Jo said as she looked at the garage occupied by only one car–a red SUV.

“Cool, then I can go straight to bed,” Drew replied, relieved.

The garage door opened into the dark living room of the McCormick household, and as they stepped inside and out of their shoes, they looked across the handsomely furnished living room into the dining room, and found their father waiting.

Mr. McCormick looked over at his kids, then out the window. He is a plain, bespectacled man with a full head of obviously graying hair, who considered his beige short-sleeve shirt and brown jean shorts dressing casual.

Drew’s good mood in the face of all the terrible things he’d wrought faded into disappointment, seeing him there. “Dad…? I thought you were out with Mom.”

“Hey Dad,” Jo greeted neutrally as she turned and went into the fridge to grab something to drink.

“I never left, one of your Mom’s friends needed some help with boxing up old things of hers to donate to charity, so we’re catching the concert tomorrow,” he explained to them with an edge of disappointment.

Grabbing a can of soda out, Jo popped the top. “Wow, that sucks. Who needed help?”

“Mrs. Carlton down the street. It’s mostly a bunch of stuff she had from when she was younger. She said you could have some of it, but it is pretty girly stuff.”

Jo shook her head. “I’ll pass on that one.”

She took a sip, as Mr. McCormick glanced back and forth between his kids.

“So what did you do all day?”

“We were hanging out with Roland,” Jo replied.

The corners of Mr. McCormick’s lips turned downward slightly. “At Nano’s store again?”

“We didn’t spend all day there,” Drew quickly defended.

His father gave him a piercingly skeptical look. “Really? _You_ did something other than read comic books all day?”

“Yeah, Mr. Pines’ grandkids came to town, so we showed them around the neighborhood,” Drew explained.

When his gaze darted to Jo and she nodded in confirmation, Mr. McCormick seemed impressed. “Well, I’m glad to see that you made something of your weekend, _for once.”_

Drew rolled his eyes, and headed across the dining room, towards the stairs that lead up to the second floor. “I’m going to bed, I’m tired from all that running around.”

“A little more exercise won’t hurt, Drew. You can’t rely on that metabolism of yours forever.”

Drew was already halfway up the stairs. “I know, Dad, don’t worry.”

Mr. McCormick turned to his daughter as she drained the can. “Did he really?”

“Ugh Dad, he really did. We had a lot of fun, and we’re all going to be hanging out even more because they’re going to school here for this year.”

“See what pulling his nose out of those books will do for him? He’s wasting the best years of his life otherwise,” Mr. McCormick said in a vindicated tone.

“Hey, I like comics too,” Jo pointed out.

“Yes, but you make time for more important things.”

At the top of the stairs, Drew sighed quietly before continuing on to his room. Closing the door behind him and not even bothering with the light, he stepped across a slightly cluttered bedroom floor and dropped face-first onto his bed with a soft thud.

He laid there for as long as he could, before he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.

_“You don’t give kids superpowers! That’s the opposite of good!”_

_“That’s bad! Anytime you make a wish like that, it goes wrong!”_

_“This is why you don’t wish to be superheroes, because then you have to be superheroes!”_

A long, agitated sigh left his lips. What would his Dad say if he knew about today?

He heard his door open with a soft creak and looked towards it in time to see Jo slip in and lean against the wall right next to the door.

Shutting the door, she looked at her brother. Despite the dark he can make out her sympathetic expression.

“Hey, don’t let it get to you. Dad’s being a butt because he couldn’t go see The Eagles,” she assured him.

Drew let out a sharp, dismissive snort. “Man, he must want to see them _all the time.”_

Jo folded her arms. “Are you seriously going to just lie there and be a giant baby about it?”

Drew sat up abruptly. “A giant baby? Jo, has it sunk into your skull how messed up this is?!”

“I was talking about Dad trashing you, but go off.”

Drew flinched. “We all know what we’re up against, and what we have to do. Doesn’t it bother you?”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Jo brushed it off entirely. “So what if it’s messed up?”

She gestured out towards Drew. “You’re the one acting like it’s the end of the world and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“And you’re acting like this is going to be fun!” Drew hissed back at her.

Jo’s expression hardened, what was up with his tone? “Am I not allowed to be excited?”

“Yes! Everything that happens is going to be _our fault!_ Don’t you get it? _Or am I the only one thinking_ about something other than _myself?”_

Now Jo was annoyed. “Oh okay, idiot, and where was this _profound_ clarity when you suggested that we become superheroes? Because I remember you were the one telling Dipper ‘We can handle it’ with us right up until the Magnavores showed up.”

Drew opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off as she marched up to him.

“And you were the one who said ‘Then we’ll be superheroes’ and walked right into that butt-kicking we got from Jara.” Reaching him, she pointed at herself.

“I wanted to rule the world, Roland wanted to be the richest guy in the world-”

She jabbed him hard in the chest with an accusing finger. _“But you’re the one who convinced us to be superheroes–so this is **your fault.”**_

Drew’s eyes widened, and his body went slack where he sat.

Jo pulled back. “You can’t go back and undo it, none of us can, so why the heck am I supposed to feel guilty for your screwup? I’m just going to learn to fight, kick the Magnavores’ butts, and clean up _your mess. **Like I always do.”**_

She turned around and marched to his door, growling a parting shot over her shoulder. “I can’t believe how not surprised I am.”

Jo left the room, slamming the door behind her. Drew was left in the dark, stunned with a hollow anger, he let it build to a crescendo and opened his mouth to shout through the door at her.

And with the very same thought he stopped himself, shouting back was pointless. Jo was right, and in his anger he absolutely hated it.

 _“All I can do is fight to fix it; I can’t go back,”_ he thought.

Crawling into his bed, he rolled onto his back and looked towards the ceiling. _“And meanwhile everyone who gets hurt by the Magnavores will be my fault. What a stupid wish, I wish I could take it back.”_

He stopped, and his eyes widened. _“Wait.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be the beginning of the next arc originally, but I decided that this was a good place to actually cap off the end of our introduction. The next arc will appear shortly.


	15. Foot in the Grave

**|Foot in the Grave|**

After being chased off from Hillhurst, Jara, Noxic, and Typhus retreated into the Mountains north of Los Angeles. There they spent the rest of the weekend, Jara healing her wounds while Typhus puked up the distillery he’d drank before they were pulled into this world. By the time they were fully recovered, it was Monday morning, and the three of them were hanging out among the bleached and barren remnants of a recently burned patch of Angeles Forest.

“Hey big guy, how’re ya hanging in there?” Noxic asked Typhus.

His long time buddy stalked around, flexing and rotating his arms. With a mighty swing, he punched through one of the dead trees, shattering it.

“I’m doing great, baby!” Typhus replied as the tree crashed to the ground behind him.

“Yeah, thatta boy! Now that you’re back in the game, we can head back over to that dump and smash those armored weirdos up good!”

“Yeah, but you’d better pull your weight his time. I wanna see some clappin’ and zappin’!”

Noxic laughed and wagged a finger to Typhus. “Oh you don’t worry about me! Nothing gets me more fired up than smacking down an unruly robot!”

Typhus, clenched both his fists and pumped them aggressively. “Yeah, we’re gonna deactivate ‘em, and shut down their human friends, too!”

Jara, fully healed and fuming the whole time she waited for Typhus to get over his hangover, tapped the back of her head against the tree. She didn’t care about those multi-colored mechanical morons who attacked them. The girl with the magical wand, however? She made her blood boil–the human who helped her, too.

Noxic noticed their normally screechy pal brooding quietly. “Hey Jara, you’ve been quiet for a minute, what’s buggin’ ya?”

She huffed indignantly. “I am still sore over that girl with her infuriating magic.”

Typhus strutted over. “Yeah, what’s up with that? Once she started casting magic on you, you flipped out.”

Noxic agreed. “You lost your cool completely!”

Jara tightened her crossed arms. “That girl’s magic, it reminded me of stuff I faced a long time ago, before I met you two.”

Noxic literally lit up. “Oh man, are you gonna tell one of your war stories?!”

Typhus was just as excited. “Aw yeah, those are the best, baby!”

“Absolutely not!” Jara snapped at them both. “I am not some old woman curled by a fire, telling stories to entertain you while she waits for death!”

She looked away. “All that you must know, is that when I faced that magic, I was defeated completely and utterly. To think that such nonsensical, stupid craft was in this world, too…”

Jara trailed off into grumbling, hitching her shoulders as she grew angrier and angrier.

Noxic wasn’t going to hear any of his two best friends bum out. “Then you’re not gonna lose this time! Come on, Jara! You’re the coolest one out of all of us! Like heck are you gonna let one magical girl get your panties all bunched up.”

Jara’s expressionless white mask looked like it was pouting as she tilted her head away from her friends a bit more.

“Yeah, round two’s gonna be a whole different fight! You, me, and Nox? We’re gonna beat those punks down so bad they’ll have to make it a pay-per-view event, baby!”

“So stop sulkin’ and get pumped up! The baddest Merc in the Nightmare Realm is gonna get hers, and she’s gonna be the coolest doin’ it!”

Sometimes Jara wondered why these two idiots were her friends. Other times, these times, she got her answer.

Uncrossing her arms, Jara placed a hand on her hip. “You’re right. I’m not going to resolve anything by sulking like bullied brat. Let’s go and settle the score right now!”

Noxic jumped, thrusting a fist in the air and clicking his heels together. “All right!”

Typhus flexed one of his arms. “Aw right, let’s get it on!”

Their celebration was cut short by a violently sudden teleportation, all three landing in a heap in a dark chamber. It was a stone-walled room laid out in the shape of a cross, the candle-lit center of a mausoleum with walls lined with coffins and no room for any more. Looking around at all of them, the three noticed that all the coffins had the same name: “Doe.”

“What’s this creepy joint, huh?” Noxic asked.

Typhus laughed. “I kinda like it.”

Jara looked ahead. “Vexor, is this the best you could do?”

Both Typhus and Noxic groaned in annoyance, and looked to the center of the cross-shaped crypt, where Vexor was sitting atop a massive stone sarcophagus at the center, with another Beetleborg comic held in his chitinous hand.

“I picked it for practical reasons. It’s cool, it’s dark, and more importantly it’s sealed up. This crypt is quite full, there’s no reason for anyone to come near it, let alone enter it.”

He slipped off the sarcophagus, soundlessly onto his feet. “Now then, I demand you tell me why it has taken me so long to reach you… and your reasoning had better be sound!”

Noxic recoiled, and stomped up to Vexor. “Now hold the heck on there! We did exactly what you told us, you pearly pontificator! Except when we got there, we got attacked by these… those…! Wait a minute!”

Vexor regarded Noxic’s ranting with confusion. “Attacked by what?”

Surprised, Noxic pointed at the comic Vexor held. “THAT’S THEM! THE GUYS WHO ATTACKED US!”

Typhus and Jara joined his side, looking at the cover of Vexor’s comic. Vexor looked at the front of the book and hummed. “I beg your pardon? You were attacked by… comic book characters?”

“Yeah, it’s like they came straight out of that book!”

“Except that they fought like flailing children,” Jara added venomously.

Vexor found that positively curious, but realized he had a possible connection. Opening the book, he began to read it as he swept away from his three underlings–pacing around the sarcophagus.

“Fascinating, and enlightening as well. Our fictional foes in this comic book exist in this world, and they attacked you right at the source of the power I felt. This warrants further investigation. Go back there, and see if you can find out more about these Beetleborgs. If you can bring one back to me? Even better.”

Noxic nodded. “Yeah, sure thing! We were gonna trash those guys anyway but you called us up.”

Jara looked over at Noxic. “Tell him about when you tried to summon your Scabs!”

Noxic clapped his hands, remembering. “Oh yeah, get this! When I tried to summon my Scabs? They came straight out of one of those Beetleborg comic books, I didn’t need to convert anything to material to make ‘em!”

Fascinating and enlightening did not describe _that_ revelation. Vexor was shocked.

“They came from the comic book? All you had to do was summon them as you normally do?”

“Well, I was gonna do my usual thing, but before I could find any machinery to convert? Bam! There they were, it was like I was born knowing how to do it! Watch!”

Noxic pointed his hands at the comic. “All right Scabs, get out here!”

Sure enough, in a flash of flame from the closed comic book’s pages, four flames shot out and landed around Vexor–shuddering, twitching Scabs ready to do battle.

Vexor looked inside of the book, back at the Scabs, and back again several times. “… Astounding! The potential this holds, the things we can do with this power!”

Waving the comic around, Vexor turned and let out a laugh. “Ho ho ho ho! Your tardiness is forgiven! This is just as important, and as interesting! Make full use of this ability of yours, tell me what you learn when you use it against those Beetleborgs.”

Noxic, relieved, nodded. “Yeah, sure thing, boss!”

Typhus raised his hand. “Hey, that ain’t all, Vex! There was somethin’ else. A magical girl was there, too.”

Noxic looked back and forth between Typhus and Vexor, jumping in quick on the conversation. “Yeah, she gave Jara more trouble than those Beetlebums did by a lot!”

“An annoying pixie of a girl with marks on her cheeks, casting chaos magic through a wand that _hurt like crazy!”_ Jara snarled.

Vexor recognized Jara’s description. “A Butterfly!”

Astounding had been surpassed. What a world!

Jara did a double take. “You know about it?”

Vexor hummed again. “When you go there, and if you run into that magical girl, bring her here, as well.”

Jara stepped up to him. “Hold on one disgusting moment! What do you know about that girl, what is a Butterfly?!”

Vexor answered the question as if it was about the weather. “A potent magical user, one that may be very useful to us. Bring her to me along with a Beetleborg, and I’ll determine just how useful they are.”

It was an unhelpful answer, but it wasn’t precluding Jara from doing as she was instructed.

“Do you want them dead or alive?”

“Alive, but I don’t have any problem with them being damaged.”

Jara shook with excitement, and turned to Noxic and Typhus. “Back to that ratty old house, then!”

The three Magnavores crossed their arms, nodded, and vanished in bursts of flame–taking the four Scabs with them.

Looking at the scorch marks on the floor they left behind, Vexor turned and walked to the sarcophagus. He rested a hand on it, and scratched lightly across the glazed stone surface.

“Such a fascinating world, and I haven’t even scratched the surface of it.” He set the Beetleborgs comic face down atop the sarcophagus, and looked at the Eye of Providence on the barcode.

“What ruinous powers were just outside of your grasp? What shall I do with them when I claim them?”

His clawed fingers cut into the polished stone, sparks flying as he dragged them across the surface with no effort.

“Ho ho ho ho, why bother asking you?”

Vexor walked down the length of the sarcophagus, cutting lines deep into it, and continued doing so as he circled around its end. “You were a fool that squandered your thrust out of the Nightmare Realm on puerile mayhem, and wound up defeated by ants.”

Vexor laughed again.

“You underestimated their sting!”

He leaned back, laughing louder.

“What a waste of such Grand Design!”

He completed his circling of the comic, and rested his opened palm on it. Burns appeared on the comic’s cover, as his eyes shone in a yellow light.

“What foundation you’ve laid down in this world will serve me well, Bill Cipher.”

The entire comic lit up, yellow flames licking up around Vexor’s hand as the light from his eyes and the cover both grew to encompass the entire crypt. As the light consumed him, Vexor’s laughter turned into mechanical screeching.

**_“EMOCY LUIRV JOEFW UUITB PUJTD CNPTQ IOPLP OSAJD NCFBQ XRCEB TNDFX.”_ **


	16. As Cruel as School Children

**|As Cruel as Schoolchildren|**

Trip Vanderhoff couldn’t remember a worse weekend in his life. Being turned down by Heather and finding out she was dating that loser Andrew was bad enough. Getting punched by that pine tree punk and losing two weeks worth of allowance with that stupid comic was even more frustrating–and that surly anger was all over his face as Dudley pulled into the car drop off lane ahead of the school buses used by the plebians.

“Come on bro, you’ve been moping all weekend,” Van said his brother as their British-made luxury sedan pulled to a stop.

“Moping, Van? Please, the blade of despair has cut me deep. The garbage heap made Heather feel so bad for him she's seeing him out of pity, and the Pine Tree’s probably gone back to whatever trailer park he crawled out of.”

He rested his head against the glass of the car door, and heaved a morose sigh. “Not even that spicy latina we met at the park can soothe this ache.”

Van grimaced. He couldn’t stand seeing his brother like this.

“Trip, it’s okay! What happened during the weekend, stays during the weekend. Like what Dad says whenever he comes back from Las Vegas!”

Trip rolled his eyes, but Van pressed on.

“Besides, we’re at _school_ now, we can put that whole weekend behind us and Andrew and his dork friends back in their places! No pine trees are gonna save them.”

Trip pulled from the glass. As dumb as his musclehead half-brother was, Trip had to admit that Van had a point.

“Yeah,” Trip said as he brightened and looked at the suburban high school spread out before them.

Echo Creek Academy, the neighborhood’s public school, home of the Awesome Opossums, and a curious place to find such wealthy children as the Vanderhoffs. However, it suited both boys just fine: they were richer and better connected than almost every other student at the school and could do whatever they wanted with no fear of consequences.

It just made sense. After all, why go to a rich private school and be just another beautiful face in the beautiful crowd, when they can remind the normies every day how sad and pathetic their lives were?

“I’m still on top, and there’s nothing that Andrew, his friends, or Pine Tree can do to change the success that I am,” Trip said. “As a matter of fact? Starting today, I’m going to make sure Drew remembers his place–under my foot with the rest of these losers–and remind Heather of hers: by my side.”

On cue, Dudley opened the door and Trip slipped out onto the sidewalk with a toss of his curly blonde hair, and held his head high. All around him, his classmates turned and looked–struck by the suddenness of his emergence and the swagger he strode with.

“Good Morning, Echo Creek Academy,” he said with full confidence that his radiance awed and infuriated the worthless masses beneath him. “The Vanderhoff Boys are here! Compare your lives to ours and don’t forget to wolf down your antidepressants!”

Silence answered him.

“W-what?”

They were all looking at them with shifty, mocking leers. Some were leaning close to their friends and murmuring over the laughter, some were pointing straight at them… but none of them were the slightest impressed.

“Uh…?” Van was confused, but had a chilling feeling what happened.

“What’s so funny?” Trip asked as his confusion turned into anger. “Hey, what’s so funny, you plebs?!”

_“Oh you didn’t hear?”_

Trip’s indignation turned into annoyed fury, hearing the venom-dripping voice of the _one person_ at school who was neither impressed nor intimidated by either of them–because she was there for the exact same reason.

He turned to his right and there was Brittney Wong–head of the Echo Creek Academy Awesome Opossums Cheerleader Squad and undisputed ruler of all school functions. The overachiever, the diva, the daughter of _old_ money that was fiercely established in this neck of LA. Trip and Van regularly joined forces with her in putting down the huddled masses–but this time her cruel scowl reserved for their usual targets of mockery was aimed at them.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her smartphone. “You should have; it’s all over the net.”

Trip’s breathing quickened as his burning fury fell through the floor, replaced with a cold, wet dread.

Brittney turned around and sidled next to Trip, holding up her phone to show him a video of him inside of Zoom Comics, posturing over Drew after just being rejected by Heather. Numbness overcame him, as he watched himself fake ripping the comic in half, and laughing at Drew’s reaction.

The angle of the video allowed him to see what he didn’t then: Dipper advancing on him from the back with _murder_ in his brown eyes. He could only watch as the out of towner whipped him around and punched the smug snake smile off his face.

Brittney looked from the video to Trip, and savored the look on his face. “Usually when you get in a fight you hit them back, not whatever _this_ is.”

 _“This”_ being sobbing like a baby as Dipper hauled him to his feet and threw him and Van out of the store like he was their father.

Trip gasped for breath as he staggered back towards his brother. “That’s… it’s not…! I’m not actually…!”

There was no way this could’ve blown up over the weekend while he didn’t know!

Trip whirled upon Van. “WHAT THE HECK, MORON?!”

Van shook his head, overcome with terror. “I don’t know! We were disconnected yesterday, remember?! We spent the whole day at the spa! You spent most of it listening to emo rock and crying! I was getting my pores cleansed!”

Trip remembered. They went offline after being chased out of Hillhurst by that monster, to detox, rest, and recuperate at their family private spa. They spent all of Sunday there with no phones or computers for a mile in any direction.

With a sneer Brittney held up the phone again. “I’d cry too if I had to spend _your_ weekend.”

Trip and Van were horrified to see themselves running from Hillhurst and pounding on the windows for Dudley to save them.

“Someone recorded us there, too?!” Van cried out.

They didn’t see the end of the video as Brittney pulled her phone back to look at it, but Trip knew who. When they were running out of Hillhurst, they ran right past Pine Tree and his sister!

“Well I guess that’s it for you two losers, there isn’t enough money in the world to fix _this_ embarrassment,” she said harshly.

Trip felt faint. The whole school was laughing at them–at him! Why would they not laugh? There he was, getting punched in the face and crying, then running away screaming from a haunted mansion begging for help. Who’s going to respect that or be afraid of that?

He looked at the other students, laughing at him being knocked down a peg. The plebs were savoring this, drinking in his anguish like a fine sparkling mineral water! Circling like vultures as they watched him die!

They couldn’t do that, that wasn’t fair!

Another car pulling up caught Brittney’s attention and she looked over to see a car she hadn’t seen pull into the drop-off lane before: Shermie’s old SUV. Trip and Van followed her gaze, just in time to see Mabel step onto the sidewalk from the SUV, followed by Misao–who’d dyed her hair from its purple with white streaks to red that faded into orange at the ends. Dipper walked around the back and joined them.

Trip goggled at the sight of the Pines Twins, in disbelief. “What?!”

Van sputtered, questioning his own eyes. “Why are they here?!”

Brittney’s mouth hung agape, like she’d seen ghosts.

Not noticing them immediately, Dipper placed his hands on his hips and smiled as he looked at their new school. “Well, here we are, Echo Creek Academy.”

Misao nodded. “It is very… suburban?”

Like the school buildings she’d see on American TV shows, even. She looked over at the sign of the school, and the statue next to it. “Is that a giant rat?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s Otis the Opossum!” Mabel cried out before she ran over and hugged the statue.

Misao tilted her head to one side. “Why is there a statue of an opossum?”

Dipper looked down at her. “He’s the school mascot.”

There were worse animals to have as mascots, but this one was baffling to the German. “A strange choice.”

She looked to her left, and frowned. “Oh no.”

Dipper looked. “What is–oh.”

He spotted the Vanderhoffs. The curly-haired blonde was shaking where he stood, his face flushed as red as the murderous fire in his eyes. At the object of his intense hatred and source of his humiliation, he raised a finger and stabbed the air with it.

“You!”

Dipper’s scowl illustrated his displeasure as he faced Trip. “Wow, you actually go here.”

“What are you doing here?!”

Dipper was in no kind of mood. “Going to school?”

Trip shook his head, slowly, and waved his finger at Dipper. “Oh no, no, no… you are not going to _my_ school, and ruining my reputation!”

Dipper folded his arms, his gaze flicking between Trip and his much tougher older brother. “I don’t care and I don’t have time for your crap. So leave me, my sister, and my friends alone.”

Trip, further incensed, stepped up to him. “You don’t have friends. You won’t have friends! You won’t have anything when I am through with you, Pine Tree! Not for what you did to me!”

Dipper was not intimidated. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise!” Trip shouted back.

Right on the tail end of that shout, Marco and Star walked over straight from their school bus. Marco’s hands were buried in his hoodie pocket, and his expression was darkening as he reached Dipper’s side.

“Hey, I bet you two have better places to be than here _or on the ground,”_ he warned the Vanderhoffs.

Star said nothing but smiled brightly as she tossed her wand to herself in casual fashion–the hearts on her cheeks replaced with grey skulls.

Not wanting any of what Star could dish out, Van dropped the tough muscle act, and grabbed Trip by his shoulder. “Come on bro, it’s not worth it.”

Furious, but helpless to stop his stronger brother from pulling him back to the family car, Trip yelled at Dipper. “I will wipe you out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on the face of this Earth, Pine Tree! Mark my flipping words”

Van yanked Trip back and threw him into the back of their car, and shouted to Dudley. “Take us around to the back entrance!”

“At once sir.” Dudley serenely smiled as he closed the door behind his charges.

As the Vanderhoffs left, Dipper shook his head in disgust. “I’ll still take him over Gideon.”

Cuddling Otis, Mabel laughed. “Oh ho ho, yeah.”

Dipper looked at her. “Mabel, stop hugging the opossum.”

“But I _love him!”_

Star looked up at Dipper. “Are you gonna be all right?”

Dipper waved his hand back and forth. “Those two do _not_ scare me.”

Marco drew his hands out of his hoodie, watching the Vanderhoff car pull around the corner. “Him and his brother, I swear. It feels like the richer you are, the more terrible a person you are to everyone around you.”

Mabel relented from cuddling Otis, and instead cuddled Misao. “Well it’s not everyone!”

Misao giggled. “Ah, Mabel!”

Star was affronted. “Marco, I’m a _princess_ and I’m not terrible!”

“Yeah, Star’s great! Get in on this hug, girl!”

Star hugged Misao and Mabel, trapping the shorter girl between them. “Friendship group hug~!”

Marco shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, but two out of six isn’t good.”

Dipper was disappointed. Bad enough they had to deal with monsters. “There’s more of them?”

“Sure, besides those two clowns there’s Brittney Wong and _Jeremy Birnbaum,”_ Marco’s tone shifted to a gravel-filled snarl as he spoke that accursed name. “Both are objectively terrible.”

Dipper frowned. “What’s with Jeremy?”

“He’s an eight year old who keeps beating Marco in Karate,” Star said.

Dipper looked at Marco, confused. “Dude, really?”

Macro was offended that Star would diminish his eternal contempt for Jeremy. “That’s not the only reason he’s terrible!”

Mabel pointed ahead of her. “Hey, is that Brittney?”

Brittney was still there, still agape, staring at the lot of them.

Misao looked at Star and Mabel, then at Marco and Dipper. “Ah… is she okay?”

Mabel followed Brittney's line of gaze to Dipper, and gestured to him. “She’s probably stunned by how hot this giant nerd is.”

Dipper’s face broke into a pale blush. “Mabel!”

Marco was not used to her expression being something other than contempt for all of creation. “Uh, Brittney? You doing all right?”

His voice broke the spell cast on her, and she went from gobsmacked to glaring in the blink of an eye.

“None of your business, _Barfo!_ Hmph!” She whipped her hair as she turned her back to the whole group and marched off.

Marco snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Yeah, see that? She’s been that way since Freshman year. I don’t even know what I did to her.”

Star looked at Marco. “Oh I bet she called you that because you almost puked on her party bus all those times, remember? Huh? Remember the party bus, and how all the rolling and turning, and rocking made you really motion sick?”

He turned green as he remembered. “Y-yeah.”

“Whoa, you too?” Dipper asked. “If you like I can give you some tips on how to deal with it.”

Marco’s nausea fell away. “What do you do for it?”

“Simple stuff, just focus on something that isn’t moving or count backwards from a high number. If you’re just riding in a car, close your eyes and just relax.”

“I know about that.”

“Oh, uh… have you tried ginger?”

No Marco had not. “What does that do?”

“Well it’s really simple biology, you see-” Dipper was cut short by the bell ringing.

“Hold that thought til later,” Marco said, and he turned to Star. “Let’s get to class, Star!”

“Coming~!” Star called, cartwheeling after him.

Mabel, her hand to her lips, giggled. “We gotta get our classes and get Misao registered, Dipper. Wipe your mouth and come on!”

As she and Misao went ahead, Dipper flushed and stomped after her. “Mabel, what the heck?!”

Brittney watched the group leave. Her scowl was gone, reduced to a frown and an uncharacteristically furrowed brow. Like everyone else who saw it, an especially timid-looking girl with short hair pulled into a ponytail was concerned. It wasn’t like Brittney Wong to be so… worried about something.

“Uh, Brittney? Are you okay?”

Brittney whirled around on the girl. “Uh, hello, Sabrina? Did you not see?”

She looked back again at the school’s doors. “That was…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being a bully has some pretty nasty consequences. Let's hope Trip and Van have learned their lesson and won't escalate their conflict with... oh who am I kidding?


	17. Scandalous Scholastics

**|Scandalous Scholastics|**

“Misao Darlian.”

Echo Creek Academy’s Principal, Edwin Bonner-Skeeves read aloud on the Swiss passport he’d been handed. He looked up at the red-to-orange haired girl who showed up unannounced at his office with the two students starting today–twins tall enough to make him think their last name was appropriate.

“Yes?” Misao’s smile radiated infectious cheer.

By stark contrast, Principal Skeeves cut the perfect image of a stern, intimidating authoritarian as he glowered at the three teenagers standing across from his desk in his office. The balding, bespectacled, and large middle-aged man lowered the passport onto the table and sighed.

“As I understand it, you’re one of those e-celebrities, right?

Dipper and Mabel both looked at Misao as she nodded. “That’s right, I stream myself playing video games.”

Principal Skeeves raised his eyebrows, skeptical of the notion. “That’s a thing young people do?”

Misao beamed. “It’s worked out well for me.”

“Evidently. There were rumors about you going to school in Beverly Hills and living with the stars of Our Family.”

“That’s right I was going to be staying with the Haleys as part of the student exchange program.”

Principal Skeeves nodded. “So you’ll excuse me if I’m a little surprised to find you here trying to enroll in my school instead. Did something happen with your exchange family, or with the school you were going to?”

“During the weekend I got here, there were circumstances I could not control. So for the sake of my original host family and the school I’ve decided to transfer elsewhere.”

“It’s nothing dangerous or a potential liability, is it?”

A menacing Shego loomed large in Misao’s mind, green energy manifesting around her clenched fist as she grinned. “Oh, hardly anything like that!”

He looked at the Pines Twins. “And you’re now staying with _these two?”_

Dipper became wary of the Principal’s tone. “Is that a problem?”

Principal Skeeves looked down at an open pair of manilla envelopes, containing the academic records of Dipper and Mabel Pines.

_Exceptionally high marks in the STEM courses. Above average marks in physical education. Poor marks in Global Studies, extremely argumentative with teachers. Seditious conspiracy theorist, punish heavily to eliminate independent thinking._

He glanced at Dipper with a raised eyebrow, before looking at Mabel’s file.

_Good general student across all courses. Liberal and free-thinking, suspected drug user. Will bring a pig to school. Bar her from Audio/Visual equipment and call police immediately if she is filming on school grounds._

Well at least he knew who he was keeping his eyes on this year. “Dipper, can I call you that? I have enough problem students and I’ve been informed in advance of your reputation. I’ve already heard about your confrontation with the Vanderhoffs before the bell.”

Dipper wasn’t going to make any excuses. “It is what it is.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t antagonize them, their family’s donations fund Echo Creek Academy’s extracurricular events.”

 _“And lets them get away with whatever they want,”_ Dipper thought to himself. “If either of them antagonize me, I’m throwing them in garbage cans.”

Principal Skeeves liked Dipper. Unfortunately, the financial situation of his school mattered more. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

Mabel leaned against her brother and pointed at him. “This guy? You don’t have to worry about _this guy,_ but don’t you worry! Mabel’s here to keep him on the path, and bring fashion, fun, and flair to Echo Creek Academy!”

“Oh no, I’ve got my eye on you, too–no video cameras. Ever.”

Mabel’s switch flipped, she went from charming and amicable to fury that knew no peer. “Whatever those philistines at Piedmont High School told you is _lies and slander!_ I had permits and the fire department was on standby!”

Principal Skeeves looked at the police report included in Mabel’s file that disputed her claims. “Whatever you say, Miss Pines.”

Mabel shook her fist to the heavens. “I will sue their pants off!”

Misao looked at Mabel, surprised that one of her episodes would cause such a response. “I’ve seen every episode, which one was this?”

Dipper leaned close to her. “Guide to High School Mascots.”

Recognition dawned on Misao’s face. “That was the funniest episode.”

Dipper gave Misao a nervous glance. _“Seriously, what is with German humor?”_

“Right, then.” Principal Skeeves looked at Misao. “Misao?”

Misao looked at him, hopeful. “Yes?”

“You still wish to enroll here at Echo Creek Academy, effective today?”

“That is right!” She said eagerly.

Principal Skeeves stared at the vibrant girl, throwing herself at his mercy with a bright smile. Shaking off her indignation, Mabel brightened and gave two thumbs up with a brilliant, encouraging smile.

He removed his glasses, before wiping and replacing them on his face. “Well unfortunately, I cannot allow you to just attend classes. If you can prove you legally live with the Pines, you can have a parent or guardian fill out the registration.”

Misao pulled out her phone. “You have Venmo, correct?”

“Yes, it’s under Edwin Bonner-Skeeves, with a hyphen between Bonner and Skeeves,” he said before continuing. “After that we’ll need a copy of your transcripts from your previous school either faxed or mailed to us with your medical records, including your immunization history.”

“Right, is ten thousand euros fine?” Dipper did a double-take towards Misao.

“Of course,” Principal Skeeves agreed. “You will also need to take an aptitude test that will determine your placement in the school if you get in-”

Misao tapped her screen a few times. “Sent.”

Principal Skeeves phone chimed, and the man brightened. “And welcome to our school, Miss Darlian. We’ll have your schedule printed out, your books ready, and your locker combination as soon as possible.”

Dipper looked back and forth between Misao and the Principal. “Whoa, what just happened?”

“The broken and corrupt system that benefits the wealthy,” Mabel said.

Principal Skeeves transferred his money to his bank. “Yes, Mr. Pines, pay attention.”

Dipper looked from him back to Misao and Mabel. “Just like that, though?”

His sister nodded. “It’s how Star enrolled.”

Dipper opened his mouth to protest such corruption, but remembered the Vanderhoff boys went here, too. “Huh, okay.”

“For the time being you may shadow your housemates,” Principal Skeeves signed a piece of paper and handed it to Misao. “Just pass this note to any teacher who asks questions.”

Misao read the school pass and nodded. “Ja, dankeschon.”

Principal Skeeves was more preoccupied with the things he was going to buy off the internet with his newfound windfall. “Bitte, if there’s nothing else, you may go to your classes. Have a good day, all of you.”

The three left the Principal’s office and went out into the High School’s main hallway. The school’s breakfast period was almost over, and students were traveling back and forth to get to their classrooms. Stopping a little bit away from the Skeeves’ door, Dipper shook his head. “Ten grand just like that? Are you going to get in trouble for spending that money?”

“Do not worry, it’s still less than a Beverly Hills Private School.” Misao had a point, so Dipper set that worry aside.

“Well, I hope at least you get what you pay for.”

She grinned and hugged Dipper’s arm. “Oh darling, I’d pay my weight in _gold_ and it wouldn’t be enough for the time I spend with you.”

She was coming on too strong for Dipper to just let that one slide. He gently pulled away. “If you’d pay that much for this…?”

He took off his lumberjack hat and ran his fingers through his messy brown hair, flicking it free to make it wilder. He looked down at her, with a dangerously charming smirk. “Then I’ll give you the VIP experience.”

Misao’s face warmed enough to turn a shade of pink. “… Oh my… ah…”

Mabel tittered at Misao’s surprise. “Dipper can be smooth as silk when he wants to be.”

She took Dipper’s hat and squashed it back on top of his head. “Don’t let it fool you, though, he’s still a giant turbo-nerd.”

He laughed. “And proud of it.”

Roland, on his way from the cafeteria with a plate of breakfast in hand, spotted the three and waved as he walked over. “Hey, guys!”.

Dipper smiled back to Roland. “Roland-”

Jo popped from behind Roland with a charming smile and a toss of her twin-tailed hair. “Hi Dipper~”

Dipper’s smile strained. “And Jo, good morning.”

“Hey Jo!” Mabel greeted enthusiastically.

Jo raised her hand with a quick greeting. “We missed you guys at breakfast.”

“We had to go to the Principal’s office, first,” Dipper said.

Roland grew worried. “It wasn’t because you got into it with the Vanderhoffs at the buses, was it?”

Dipper dismissed his fears with a wave of his hand. “Star and Marco showed up and they backed off,”

“But if they mess with us again, Dipper said he’ll throw them into the trash,” Mabel added.

“Where they belong,” Misao spat.

Roland let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, that might be sooner than later. The whole school knows about what happened at the shop, so they’ll want payback.”

Dipper shrugged his shoulders. “I will dunk on them anytime, anywhere, and as many times as they want it. I don’t care.”

Jo looked between Dipper, Mabel, and Misao. “So why were you at Skeeves’ office?”

Mabel pat Misao atop her head. “We were getting Misao enrolled.”

Roland brightened. “You’re already in?”

Misao struck a pose, winking as she held the V sign over her opened eye. “Ja, it didn’t take much for me to get in!”

“At least not as much as a Private School,” Dipper muttered, and Misao laughed.

Mabel noticed someone was absent. “Where’s Drew?”

Jo, scowling, looked off to the side as Roland answered. “He said he wasn’t feeling all that hot, so he was going to skip out today.”

Mabel gasped. “Oh no!”

“Is he okay?” Misao asked.

“He’s fine, he’s just in kind of a mood,” he assured them.

“Does this happen often?” Dipper asked.

“More than it should; he needs to get over himself.” The venom dripped from Jo’s words, surprising Roland and Mabel.

Dipper didn’t like the sound of that, mental health was important–especially when superpowers were involved. “We’ll go talk to him after classes.”

Mabel gasped. “I know! I should make him a card!”

As Mabel brimmed with excitement over making the best cheer-up card ever, Roland asked. “So what classroom are you guys in?”

Dipper looked at his schedule. “It says I’m in Room 108.”

Mabel looked at hers, and pouted. “It says I’m in Room… 111…?”

Dipper’s spirit fell with hers, as they looked at each other. “They split us up.”

Every school year they were in at least the same homeroom, a perk of being twins.

Roland gave both a reassuring smile. “Hey, look on the bright side. 108 is Drew and Jo’s classroom, so you won’t be alone, and 111? That’s mine, Marco, and Star’s classroom, too.”

And things were even more awkward–for Dipper, as he glanced quickly at Jo. Reminding himself that he had to be strong, he rested a hand on Mabel’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Mabel, just focus on making a good impression.”

Mabel’s spirits rose, and she was beaming again. “You know for a fact that I make…” She cleared her throat and spoke like a slightly more girlish Dipper. “… _amazing_ impressions.”

“Never do that again,” Dipper said with a cheeky smile.

“No promises.” Mabel hugged him. “I’ll see you at lunch!”

As Dipper returned her embrace, she whispered in his ear. “And don’t you forget that Wendy put up with you.”

Mabel had a point. Pulling back, he gripped her shoulders and nodded. “When you take over the school, don’t start right away with mandatory dance parties, okay?”

“No promises there either, bro-bro.”

“And that’s why going to school with you is the best.”

Misao raised her hand. “I’ll go on with Dipper to room 108, so he’ll have a bit more company on his side.”

“You sure?” Mabel asked.

“Ja! I’ll take good care of your brother.”

Jo’s spirits picked up a bit, she did get to go to class with Dipper, after all. “And I’ll take care of you two.” She waved to Roland and Mabel. “Later, guys.”

Mabel and Roland watched them leave, and he faced her with a sympathetic frown. “Jo’s pretty into your brother, will he be okay?”

Mabel began walking to class. “Don’t worry about Dipper, he can handle her.”

Roland kept up with her. “I hope so.”

“He’s got experience in this sort of thing, he was a huge mess with his first big crush.” And Mabel on all of hers, but this wasn’t about the mistakes of _her_ youth. “When it’s all over, everyone will be older and wiser for it.”

“I just hope she doesn’t go too far, she can be a bit over the top.”

Mabel laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Please, we’ve dealt with people who had _no chill_ and Jo is hardly anything like that.”

Roland joined her in laughter. “Oh yeah? What’s someone with _no chill_ in your book?”

**@@@@@**

**_“I will destroy him!”_** Trip yelled in the school’s faculty parking lot, to the gathered audience of his brother and Dudley.

He punched the side of his SUV, hot tears running down his face. This would not stand, Pine Tree and all everyone he associated with were going down–especially Andrew McCormick and Marcel Diaz!

“Dexter! Mark this down!” Trip commanded.

“It’s Dud-”

“On this day, at this moment! I swear upon the Vanderhoff name that I will have my revenge! Pine Tree, and his loser friends will be at my feet–on their knees! I will take everything from them! Their friends, their family, their homes! Even the clothes off their backs! I will own them, and when they have nothing left and beg me for mercy? I will say no and cast them into the darkest pit I can pay people to think of!”  
Van never saw his brother this angry before. “Uh…”

His voice cracking and splintering, he screamed as he stamped his feet, his face flushed red–soaked with tears and sweat. **“I AM NOT GOING TO BE TREATED LIKE THIS! _BY THESE IDIOT LOSERS!”_**

Van looked around nervously, hoping there wasn’t someone skulking around with a camera looking for more junk to smear them with. “Trip, you need to chill.”

“Chill? CHILL?! How can I chill when everyone keeps taking shots at me, huh?!” Trip pounded on his own chest. “People were laughing in our faces, like they don’t know who we are! How am I going to be chill after that, numbnuts?!”

He turned away and let out a scream that rose into a high squeal.

Grabbing his brother before _anyone_ heard that, Van shook him. “Hey! We'll get them back! You just gotta, I don’t know… see this with a cooler head?”

Dudley, who wished he could just burst into laughter without consequence, cleared his throat. “Master Van’s quite right, sir. Revenge is a dish best served with careful preparation, not screaming and flailing.”

Trip whirled on him. “What would you know about revenge, Donatello?!”

The old man held his tongue a little bit harder than usual, and just imagined a day where Trip and Van would both be on fire. “My apologies, sir. Nevermind.”

Van rested a hand on Trip’s shoulder. “Hey, bro… bro… I have an idea. How about we do what Dad does when there’s people he doesn’t like in his way, but can’t have them sued or arrested?”

Trip sniffled. “Hitmen are expensive, though.”

“Well, not a hitman, but someone who hits?” Van smiled sinisterly. “I happen to know a guy who hits pretty hard, too.”

Trip began to like this idea. “Oh yeah, is he good?”

Van laughed. “Nah, in fact he’s a bit of a… dud.”

Trip frowned for all of a moment, before he recognized who his brother was talking about. “Heh… hahahaha… even a _dud_ should be good enough for Pine Tree. Let’s make it happen.”

He looked at Dudley. “David?”

“Dudley, sir.” The old chauffeur did not like the twisted grin Trip was wearing now.

“Get me a briefcase full of money and some waivers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think some of these kids need therapy.


	18. On My Own Time

**|On My Own Time|**

After parting ways with Jo and Roland, Drew didn’t go to Zoom Comics as they were led to believe–he got onto a bus for Hillhurst Mansion. His argument with Jo the other night had given him an idea to fix the mess he made, and with everyone else at school he could pull it off without having to hear anyone protest–not Dipper, Marco, and _especially_ Jo.

By the end of the day, it would be like none of this ever happened. He hoped that much, at least.

Like Flabber had promised, the house and the area around it had been cleaned up. Even the broken door and windows were completely repaired. As he crept through the door, he found the dusty, cobweb-covered interior was completely clean of the old garbage that had strewn the floor, but now there were newer cardboard boxes stacked over by the doorway to the organ room. “Flabber? Are you here? Did you clean the house…?”

Drew barely made it halfway into the living room, when the door he left open slammed shut. He looked back, and found Mums leaned against it, blocking the way out. “Well, well, well! Look who’s come by for breakfast! Hey Frankie! Fangula!”

Frankenbeans stormed out of the hallway leading to the back of the house, arms outstretched. “Yay! Food!”

From the balcony above, Fangula emerged with dramatic flourish and leered at Drew hungrily. “Just in time, I’ve been… _dying_ for a _bite.”_

Frankenbeans advanced closer, hands grasping at the air. Fangula vaulted over the railing and landed soundlessly in a low crouch next to Frankie, hissing and baring his fangs as he anticipated Drew’s next move. Mums circled behind their prey, rubbing his dry, creaking palms together as he chuckled with ill-intent.

Drew wasn’t in the mood. “Where’s Flabber? I need to talk to him.”

All three stopped. Fangula was taken aback by his indifference, Frankenbeans was more disoriented than his minimum brain power was usually capable of, and Mums was outright affronted.

“Wait, what? Hey, kid, you’re surrounded by evil, spooky, man-eating monsters here!” He pointed out.

Drew pulled his Beetle Bonder from his pocket. “Yeah, so what?”

Mums palmed his face in frustration, before gesturing emphatically at Drew. “We’re evil, spooky, man-eating monsters! Start shaking in your boots!”

Drew’s eyes, filled with contempt, narrowed. “You dweebs are not scary.”

Mums went from affronted to enraged. “Dweebs?! You know what? That’s it! You ain’t gonna live long enough to be scared! Fangs! Frankie! Let’s rip this punk limb from limb!”

“And I’m done.” Drew held up the Beetle Bonder. “Beetle Blast.”

Bright blue light shone from the center of the Beetle Bonder as its wings opened to reveal a figurine in the center of it of the Blue Stingerborg. The shining light became a vortex that encircled Drew and encased him from head to toe in the Blue Stingerborg’s armor–to the horror of the three monsters.

Mums pointed at Drew. “H-hold it! You’re one of those guys who jumped us!”

Drew quickly drew the Input Magnum and pulled back on the slide. “That’s right. Now show of hands: Who wants to be the first to help me work through some crap?!”

Mums was suddenly far less-inclined. “I’ll beat up a kid anytime, but not an armed one!”

Drew turned to face Frankie and Fangula. The foppish vampire jumped back, his hands shooting for his belt protectively. “Please no!”

Frankie turned and fled down the hallway he came. “No fight!”

Drew nodded, that was much more like it. “That’s what I thought; now get out of here.”

“Retreat!” Mums cried out, and the remaining two monsters quickly fled up the stairs to avoid a thrashing like the one they had the last time. They were out of sight in seconds.

Satisfied, Drew holstered the weapon. “Back Blast!”

In a flash the armor vanished, and when the light faded Flabber was standing next to him. “See? You didn’t even have to beat them up.”

Drew scowled at Flabber. “I thought you’re supposed to keep them in line.”

“I am, and I have! They haven’t even tried to leave since I got the TV and Internet installed.”

“Then where were you-” Drew paused. “Wait, TV? Internet?”

Flabber brightened. “Oh yeah, come take a look!”

The phasm ushered Drew from the sitting room to the Organ Room, where the furniture across from the organ had been rearranged to make room for a gigantic plasma television with an equally impressive surround sound system. Drew gawked at it, and at the stacks and stacks of movies, books, DVDs, video game consoles, and other forms of audio/visual media strewn around for easy consumption.

Drew looked wildly back and forth across the setup. “Wh… what? When did you…? How did you…?”

“I’ve been locked up in that organ for forty years, I had a lot of catching up to do. So with some help, I got my information station set up nicely. A seventy-inch plasma screen smart tv–with Netflix.”

Drew looked at Flabber, and gestured at the TV. “How did you know how to get all this stuff?!”

Janna stuck her head up over the couch separating the two from Flabber’s multimedia empire, giving him a two-fingered salute. “Sup, sad kid, you’re skipping out, too?”

Drew looked at Janna in disbelief. “Janna?! What are you doing here?”

“She’s been here since yesterday, helping me catch up on what I missed, and it’s been a lot!” Flabber explained. “Can you believe that Elvis Presley is a cyborg living in a cave at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea, now?”

“No I mean…” Drew trailed off, and looked at Flabber. “Wait, what?”

Before Flabber could spend the next three hours explaining a complex web of deception hiding the horrific conversion of 50s and 60s era celebrities into unfeeling warriors to defeat chronological infants, Drew held his hand up to the phasm’s face, stopping him.

“No. Janna, how are you still here and not being bothered by those idiots that just tried to eat me?”

The dark-haired girl looked towards the living room, then back at Drew. “Oh, them? I told them I was a witch.”

Drew’s shoulders fell. “You’re not a witch.”

“You’re literally the last person on the planet to deny claims of supernatural powers, McCormick.”

Drew didn’t want Janna sticking her nose into what he was about to do–but he couldn’t brandish a gun at her, too. With a deep, centering breath, he turned from her and faced Flabber. “I need your help with something.”

Flabber forgot all about showing off his collection for the moment. “Sure thing, kiddo! What do you need?”

Drew glanced at Janna, then gestured towards the organ. “Can I talk to you about it over here?”

Flabber pointed with both fingers at Drew. “Lead the way!”

The two walked away from Janna; she rested her arms on the back of the couch and watched them, her eyes narrowed in interest. What was Drew trying to keep from her?

“So I’ve been reading more of the Beetleborgs and they’re pretty great! The first few issues were a little janky, but it really kicks into gear when Saint Papilia is introduced and-” Flabber stopped when Drew held up his hand again.

“Hey, Flabber, I think I have an idea on how to undo this. I’m going to need another wish from you, though.”

Flabber jumped in place and tittered in excitement. “Oh say no more! I’ve felt so bad about bringing those other guys into the world!”

He teleported to Drew’s other side. “I’ve been reading up on ‘em, and they’re really the baddest of the bad. Why, if I weren’t cooped up in this house, I’d be fighting them myself!”

In a flash Flabber was gone again, appearing in the far side of the room with boxing shorts worn awkwardly over his gaudy, chaotic suit, and head protection that was resting atop his pompadour. He began aggressively shadowboxing–literally fighting his own shadow.

“I’d hit ‘em with a ghostly left, polter-right! The phantom hook! The Ghouly one-two-y! Yeah!”

His ridiculous fighting moves pummeled his own shadow, until a final uppercut knocked it flat out onto the ground. Turning around, his face covered in the lumps he’d delivered onto himself, Flabber thrust his hands into the air triumphantly. “Adrian! Adrian!”

Janna looked at Drew, her expression asking “Who’s Adrian?”

Drew shrugged his shoulders, an unspoken “I have no idea.”

Flabber appeared next to Drew, a Hillhurst Boxing Office Heavyweight Champion belt around his waist. He threw another punch drunk hook, ready to go. “All right Drew, what can I do?”

Drew glanced at Janna, before turning his back to her and pulling Flabber along with him. “I want to go back in time so I can warn myself not to make the first wish.”

Flabber recoiled, and spoke with the voice of an energetic, dramatic old man. “Great scott, Andy! I don’t think I can do that!”

“Do what?” Janna asked.

Drew frowned, and the heat of his frustration flared up. “How can you be sure? You’re really powerful, Flabber! You were able to give us the Beetleborg powers and bring the Magnavores to life from the comics! Isn’t there some way you can open a portal back in time or create a time machine?!”

Janna lit up. “Ooh, time travel? Count me in.”  
He looked over, not expecting Janna to be interested in the idea. “… Really?”

She hopped over the couch and walked over, holding up a DVD case. “You could summon one from this copy of Back to the Future.”

Flabber looked at Janna. “Ooh! It could be the Delorean from the end, too, the one that can fly!”

“Heck yeah, a Mr. Fusion wouldn’t be too bad to have,” Janna said with full consideration of the sinister applications of such a device.

Drew‘s frustration eased. “When we get the Delorean, I also want to have the knowledge of how to operate it.”

Flabber agreed. “You got it, kiddo, you might need to make room in that noggin for a bunch of theoretical, fictional, and nonsensical physics, though.”

Drew let out a bitter snort. “It’s not like I have anything useful up here anyway.”

Janna handed the DVD to Drew. “Hey, what’re the chances we can stop by about… 1812 or so?”

Drew looked at her. “Why so far back?”

“You have your reasons for time traveling and I have mine, McCormick.”  
The way she bit down on her lower lip and looked to the side weirded Drew out; so he ignored her and offered the DVD case to Flabber.

Flabber clapped his hands eagerly, and danced around in a circle. “All right! According to my calculations, when I grant this wish, we’re gonna see some serious-”

“SHH!” The Pipettes suddenly hushed as one, cutting him off. “Watch your language, Flabby!”

“There are impressionable young ghosts that we host!” Blue chimed in.

“Cursed wards don’t need curse words!” Red added.

“So keep it rated G for Ghouls!” Green sang.

“Whoops! Sorry!” Flabber fanned his face. “I do not know what came over me.”

Janna looked at the Pipettes, then looked at Flabber. “Seriously, a house full of man-eating monsters and there’s no swearing allowed?”

Drew folded his arms and thought about it. “Well, like they said, this place is cursed enough.”

“That’s a load of bull-”

“SHH!” The Pipettes hushed Janna.

A long silent moment followed.

“Shit.”

The entire house rumbled threateningly, making her and Drew both jump.

**“Watch your language.”**

The deep baritone that rumbled from the walls, floor, and ceiling of the house itself rattled the two human guests to the bone.

“… G-gotcha,” a noticeably paler Janna agreed. With their noses turned up smugly, the Pipettes vanished back into the organ.

Drew scowled at the organ and Janna, then looked at Flabber. “Where were we?”

“Right! 1.21 Flabberwatts, coming right up!” Limbering up, Flabber struck the same poses he had when he granted their first wish. “Flib! Flab! Flabber! A special request from a long _time_ fan–a time machine with style!”

He pointed his hands at the DVD.

**_“PHASM FORCE!”_ **

Flabber’s magic struck and the entire house once again began to tremble as the case and its contents emitted an unearthly glow that filled the room, spread throughout the house, and darkened the sky above Hillhurst.

At that moment, Noxic’s power sensors began beeping wildly, as he and his fellow magnavores reached the edge of the vineyard.

“Oh man, something’s going crazy over there! My sensors are blanked out! I can’t measure that power!”

Typhus cracked his monstrous knuckles. “It’s going down big time, baby.”

Jara rubbed her masked chin as the darkness was banished by a pillar of light from the house. “Yes, down to the ground. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Back to the Future noises.*


	19. Strength

**|Strength|**

“How’re classes so far?” Marco asked Dipper as the two of them stood in line for lunch in Echo Creek Academy’s cafeteria, the former just ahead of the latter in the steadily creeping queue. The circular building, separate from the school itself and ringed with glass doors and picture windows for two-thirds of the building, was a hive of activity as students from several different classes gathered to eat.

Dipper let his gaze wander around the room as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So far, so good, I’ve already been excused from history class. Next up I’m going to see if I can fill that grade hole with more advanced science.”

Knowing that Dipper was somewhat of a crazy conspiracy theorist, Marco wasn’t bothered by his disdain for school-taught history. “Underneath all that responsibility you keep taking, you’re kind of a rebel, huh?”

Dipper’s gaze fell back on Marco. “I guess so.”

Marco tucked his hands in his hoodie, putting on a humble façade. “I’m a bit of a misunderstood bad boy, myself. I _love_ a little danger in my life–I love being out there fighting monsters with Star.”

Dipper sure did. “Yeah, you really got into it. You hit way harder than you look like you would, too. How’d you get so strong?”

“That’s all me.” Marco suddenly snapped into a fighting stance for emphasis. Then he was a burst of movement, throwing a trio of jabs fast like lightning before spinning in place and kicking high–his foot stopping just to the right of Dipper’s head . He stayed there like a statue for far longer than necessary, blatantly showing off his muscle control. “See?”

Dipper swallowed. _“Okay, when did it get so warm in here?”_

Near the center of the cafeteria, Mabel watched Dipper and Marco out the corner of her eye as she sat with Star, Jo, Roland and Misao. They had already been served their lunches.

 _“He doesn’t even know what to do with himself.”_ She repressed her urge to giggle in excitement as she turned her full attention to her new friends. Roland was on his phone, texting, while Star was listening to Misao and Jo’s account of their classes between the start of school and now.

Star was astounded. “He got to leave History class?”

Misao nodded. “Ja, after five minutes of arguing with him about the eighth president, he let him go to the library.”

Jo was detached from the conversation, watching Dipper and Marco talk. “Mr. Cuthbert said he wasn’t paid enough to teach kids like him.”

Star, baffled, gestured to herself. “What about kids like _me?_ I turned Miss Skullnick into a troll and nearly got the class killed on a field trip, but I never get excused!”

Mabel laughed. “Dipper’s good at getting under teachers’ skin. He does the same thing back home. If he didn’t have super high marks everywhere else, our parents would be worried.”

“Your parents are cool with him being like that?” Though, seeing how _Mabel_ was, Jo should’ve expected as much.

“Well yeah, they want us to think for ourselves, no matter where that might take us. It’s taken _me_ to being _awesome!”_

Misao giggled. “… Well, you’re certainly awe-inspiring. _”_

Flattered, Mabel caught Misao in a hug. “Aw!”

“What even _are_ presidents, and why are they important?” Star asked, as Misao snuggled back against Mabel.

Jo looked at Star like she _should_ know this by now. “They lead the country.”

 _“Do they?_ I mean, I don’t see them doing any _leading_ when they’re on the TV. They’re not issuing decrees, declaring war, or having their enemies thrown into the dungeon. I mean, if the President came here to school and told you to clean his shoes, would you do it?”

“… Uh, no?” Jo wouldn’t do that if her own father told her to.

Star gestured with her wand to Jo. “Then he’s not exactly the ruler of the country, now is he?”

“That’s not how it works-”

 _“Does it, Jo?_ The president rules the country, you’re part of the country so he rules over you too, but you don’t have to do what he says? If he doesn’t, then who does he rule? That’s not a ruler at all. Check, set, Battleship sunk.”

Jo scowled at Star. “Ugh, do you even pay attention in history class?”

Star tossed her wand to herself. “Nope!”

Her scowl turned into a glare. “How are you supposed to be the future ruler of _your_ country?”

“Duh, I’m a Princess? I was literally born ready.”

Jo opened her mouth, but stopped and looked away from her with a frustrated sigh. “Whatever.”

As Jo huffed, Mabel looked away from her second favorite cuddle buddy, after Waddles, to Roland. “Talking to Drew?”

He tapped on his phone’s screen. “Trying to, he’s not answering my texts.”

Jo’s scowl turned to outright seething. She once more looked towards the only thing that wasn’t annoying her at the moment–Dipper and Marco moving through the lunch queue.

Mabel gasped. “That reminds me!” She produced a magenta card, with a beautifully drawn but sad blonde Maine Coon kitten on the front and the words “I hear that you’re having a meow-serable time.”

She beamed brightly. “I finished the card!”

Misao leaned in and gasped in awe of its cuteness. “Oh my goodness, it’s… it’s…”

Mabel nodded. “Uh-huh, say it, girl~!”

Misao practically jumped from her seat. “It’s a _CAT-ICATURE~!”_

Jo’s attention was drawn back to the two bubbly girls. “A what?”

“Mabel draws people, but as cats! They are very cute!” Misao explained as Mabel opened the card, revealing the cat lying on its back in a patch of grass surrounded by flowers and butterflies, its fluffy belly offered for pets, and wearing cool sunglasses. Above the cat it read “So let’s get together to have a purr-fect day!”

Misao squealed with joy. “Oh my goodness! The fur is like his hair! And his cute sunglasses! Ahhh! It’s adorable!”

Jo stared at the picture, incredulous at its quality. “You drew all of that _today?”_

Roland let out a chuckle, he couldn’t believe it himself when Mabel did it. “She drew it right at the start of math class, Miss Skullnick yelled at her, but then she drew her a cat-icature and she liked it so much that she let her do it for the whole period.”

Star held up a drawing of her cat–a sand-colored cat with a crescent moon on its forehead, sitting pretty under a burning rainbow. “She made cat-icatures for everyone! Look at mine.”

“Mine’s pretty great, too.” Roland held up his own cat drawing–a brown-striped kitten wearing a red scarf.

Jo gawked at the art, then looked at Mabel, then at Star, then at Misao.

Mabel placed a hand on her chest, and thrust it out with pride. “I am a super amazing artist, and you too can learn if you follow my step by step guides on art and painting.”

Misao nodded quickly. “Ja, I have but… why do you make your hair into a big and poofy afro for it?”

Mabel turned her palms upward and slowly gestured out with them as she closed her eyes. “Because to grasp the joy of painting, you must find the happy little tree in your heart.”

Dipper and Marco joined the table, the former noticing the pictures. “Cat-icatures already, Mabel?”

Beaming, Mabel held up her card for him to see. “What can I say? They’re a hit.”

Marco reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a drawing Mabel made for him–a calico kitten doing a kickflip on a skateboard with a star sticker on its underside. “Seriously, your sister draws some cool cats, man.”

“I know.” Dipper sat down next to Mabel, and Marco next to Star. “She’s made like a million cat-icatures of me as practice. There’s a dozen in our room back home that I like the most.”

Mabel pulled out her math notebook, and a pencil. “What’s one more, bro-bro?”

Misao clapped her hands together and leaned close to Mabel, her gray eyes filled with stars. “Mabel, could you draw a cat-icature for me, too? A fluffy one?”

“Of course! I can get started on yours right now.” She called Jo. “Do you want a-”

“I don’t,” Jo snapped at her, and the atmosphere grew cold.

There was too much edge in her voice, given Mabel’s brief recoil, and Jo swore inwardly as Roland called it out. “Hey, what’s your deal?”

Star was just as quick to come to Mabel’s defense. “Yeah, are you okay?”

Jo snorted, and decided to just let the tension off her chest. “My deal? Between the teen girl squad, here-” She gestured to Mabel, Star, and Misao. “-And my brother? I don’t know what’s annoying me more.”

Mabel had no idea where this came from. “Whaaaa?”

Star didn’t take that too kindly. “Hey, rude!”

“Pardon me?” Misao asked.

“Jo!” Roland snapped at her.

Without remorse, she continued her complaint. “Why are we even here, wasting our time when we should be training or looking for the Magnavores? It’s not like they’re going to be waiting for the last bell to start crap. But nah, it’s totes fine to not worry about that and just sit around like this is some dumb hangout.”

She sneered. “But on the other end of it, there’s Drew acting like we all have to be as miserable as he is, because _he_ screwed up and got us all into this mess in the first place.”

Roland was livid. “Okay _Josephine,_ that’s the line. You do not go throwing this all on him. We all agreed to it!”

“Yeah, we did. That doesn’t mean I want or have to curl up under my bed and cry about it.” She palmed the table, and spoke quieter. “I want to be a Beetleborg, I want to fix this mess that we made. Why should I hate it, and why are we acting like school is more important than this?”

“Nobody’s pretending anything,” Marco said, “We can’t just skip school to fight monsters.”

Star spoke up. “We’ve done that lots of times.”

“Yeah, but that’s because Ludo would come after us.”

Jo nodded. “Uh huh, and if you actually went after Ludo instead of waiting for him to come harass you, you’d probably not have to deal with him. I’m not saying we should drop out, we should focus on getting stronger as fast as we can.”

Dipper sighed. “It doesn’t work like that, Jo. You’re being impatient.”

“Thank you!” Roland said with an emphatic wave to Dipper.

Jo rolled her eyes, more at Roland than Dipper. She didn’t want to be mad at him, but she needed to hear _this._ “Okay then, how does it work? And please, don’t skimp on the details.”

Dipper was about to warn Jo that this was not a conversation they should be having in the middle of the cafeteria to begin with, when a voice called from behind him.

“Hey, are you Dipper Pines?”

Dipper got up and turned to face the person accosting him, and was surprised that he had to actually look up. Standing a few inches taller than his own already esteemed height was a young man who could be charitably described as the unintended consequence of an illicit encounter between a brick house and a diesel locomotive.

Mabel wondered how many years this guy got held back. “He big.”

Marco pulled his hood up and hiked his shoulders up a bit to look as small as possible, while Star brightened. “Hey, it’s that guy.”

“Who is he?” Misao asked.

“Oh, that’s Lars Vanderdud, he’s in a grade below us. He bullies anyone smaller than him, but he’s kind of a big baby.” Roland said before looking at Marco. “Hey, didn’t you-”

 _“Yes,”_ Marco cut him off as he bowed his head lower to the table, not in the mood to talk about whatever he did.

Jo swung one leg over the bench seat, watching Lars and Dipper with narrowing eyes.

“Can I help you?” Dipper asked Lars.

“You sure can,” Lars said with a big, malicious smile. “I’m running behind!”

Dipper tensed up, not liking where this was going. “Huh?”

For a man as big as he was, Lars was quick on the draw, his fist plowing into Dipper’s stomach before he could jump back or raise his arms to block.

His strength lived up to the advertisement perfectly, though. Lars hit hard, the blow enough to lift Dipper off his feet, shove all the wind out of his lungs, and knock his Lumberjack hat off his head. As he crumpled like a crushed can, gasping, Lars caught the falling hat and slammed it down onto his shaved short head.

“HAHAHA! ‘Cuz I’m a lumberjack! Get it?! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Mabel shot to her feet as Misao recoiled in horror. “Dipper!”

Roland was on his feet, yelling at Lars. “What is wrong with you?!”

Lars ignored him, still laughing at his joke like it was the funniest thing he’d ever thought of. Around the table, other students watched the scene with mixed emotions ranging from surprise, worry, or disgust. At her table in particular, Brittney Wong’s expression was indiscernible–she scowled at the scene like she did everything and everyone else, while the cheerleader sitting across from her held her hands over her mouth in horror.

Marco joined Mable at Dipper’s side. “Hey, you all right?”

Dipper coughed and tried to get up. “I think I’m gonna hurl…!”

Lars laughed even harder. “Hey, don’t lose your lunch, kid!”

Star jumped onto the table and aimed her wand at him. “How about eating a Narwhal for yours?!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA-!” Lars’ laughter came to an abrupt halt. Star’s threat didn’t land–it was Jo grabbing him by the collar of his gray t-shirt and yanking him down to her level that took him completely by surprise. “Huh?!”

“Hey smooth-brain,” she snarled, her eyes filled with an avenging flame as she wound up her free hand–balled tightly into a fist, **_“You done goofed.”_**

The haymaker that followed echoed across the cafeteria like a thunderclap. The racket after was even louder, as Lars was flung so hard by the blow that the front of his t-shirt was ripped away in Jo’s hand, he crashed onto another table, bounced off it, and tumbled across the floor to hit the cafeteria window with still enough momentum to send a spiderweb of cracks across it from bottom to top.

It got real quiet after that, the stillness broken a painfully long moment later by Lars’ whimpering sob of pain that at least reassured everyone that he was alive.

Everyone looked at Jo. Roland was frozen where he stood, mouth agape, Marco and Mabel still like statues with Dipper slumped between them, their eyes wide at what had happened. Misao’s head slowly tilted, as her eyes traced the path Lars’ body took to calculate how much force would’ve been needed for a little girl like Jo to do that.

“Whooooooooa,” Star whispered quietly.

She was still holding the torn off front of Lars’ shirt, and staring at her fist like she had no idea what just happened–because she didn’t.

“What… the… fuck…?” Jo whispered as her vision focused on the damage Lars left in his wake.

Finally a student, a sporty blonde girl with a cyan streak in her hair, called out. “Dude, Jo just Falcon Punched Lars’ face off!”

The cafeteria erupted into cheers right after that. Jo hardly heard it, she was still looking in a daze between her fist and what it destroyed when Roland grabbed her arm. “We need to go, _now.”_

Without a word of protest, Jo agreed and the two fled for the doors, Misao and Star quickly behind them.

Still trying to regain his breath, Dipper picked up his hat, and put it back on. “Yeah... l-let’s get out of here…”

Marco supported him on his right as Mabel took his left, and both led him towards the doors. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine, we gotta get out of here before a teacher comes yelling.” He trailed off into coughing again.

As they walked past Lars towards the door, Mabel stopped and kicked the crying bully in the side, making him yelp again, before she followed them out.

The group fled the cafeteria, and gathered behind the bleachers at the football field. Dipper leaned against Mabel now, a hand on his stomach as if he was trying to keep his organs from spilling out. He coughed a few more times, and took a few long, deep breaths to steady himself.

“Okay…” He stopped again to hold his breath and hopefully stop the painful spasming of his diaphragm, before he let it all out. “Jo, what in the world was that?”

Jo quickly shrugged her shoulders, her shock turning into panic. “I don’t know! I was just going to punch him until his face or my hand broke! I didn’t know I was going to knock him halfway to Genosha!”

She was still tightly gripping the front of Lars’ shirt, and only realized it at that moment as she dropped it with a grunt of disgust.

Dipper lowered his head and groaned, part from pain and just as much from this frustrating new development. “Okay, so is this some kind of superpower Reddle has?”

Jo quickly shook her head. “No way. She was a strong fighter, but she was only super strong when she was transformed. Not even G-Stag could just punch a guy like I laid Lars out.” She looked at her hands again, opening and closing them. “I didn’t even feel his weight when I yanked him down.”

“Could the wish have given us superpowers besides the Beetleborg stuff?” Roland asked.

Marco looked at him. “Do you feel particularly super strong?”

Roland grabbed the back of the bleachers and tried lifting them with both hands. Straining a bit he looked at Marco and shook his head.

Jo took the bar, and with ease lifted the entire back of the bleachers two feet off the ground.

“Oh beans!” Mabel cried as she and Misao hopped back.

“Nicht zu fassen!” The smaller girl gasped.

“How are you doing that?” Marco asked.

Jo set the bleachers back down. “I don’t know… but like, at the same time…?”

She tried it again, and this time it didn’t budge. “… I know how to turn it off?”

“Guys, it’s magic,” Star said, “It just works.”

Dipper looked at Star. “You wouldn’t happen to know any magical experts who could lend a hand, would you?”

Star nodded. “Well, there’s always Glossaryck.”

“Who is as forthcoming and helpful with important, pertinent information as Yoda and Dumbledore combined,” Marco pointed out.

Star, expression blank, stared at Marco. “I don’t know who either of those are.”

“What about your mother, the Queen?” Misao asked.

“Yeah!” Jo added.

Just as quickly, Star raised her hands and crossed her arms. “Whoa, nonononono. If _my Mom_ finds out there are monsters from some nightmare dimension running around that could take the wand from me? She will drag me back to Mewni and none of you will ever see me again.”

That was a chilling thought for all of them, but especially Marco, who felt the ice right in his stomach. “… Oh.”

Dipper groaned again, more from the frustration than the pain this time at least. “Okay, but would Glossaryck tell her?”

“Nope, he belongs to my Magic Instruction Book so he belongs to me,” Star reassured him.

“Then maybe there’s a spell in there he can help teach, so you can, I don’t know… help figure out if Drew and Roland have superpowers, too… or to what extent these powers go to.” The last thing Dipper wanted on a growing list of things he couldn’t care less for in this situation, was for these superpowers to get out of control and maybe destroy all three of them.

Leaning against Mabel, he coughed one more time and grumbled in pain as he found the strength to stand on his own. “Thanks, Mabel.”

She stood close to him. “Can you stand?”

Dipper nodded, but Mabel didn’t let go of his arm. Hearing sirens, probably an ambulance for Lars, he let out a sigh. He looked at Jo. “Well, looks like we have to skip school today, because explaining this is going to be hard.”

A powerful grimace twisted Jo’s face, and she looked away. “Well, this is great.”

Palming his face, Roland sighed. “Well, is there anything else that can go wrong? Just so we can get it out of the way.”

Everyone who had a phone on them heard theirs buzz loudly.

Mabel pulled her phone out. “Was that the group text…?” She looked at the sender. “It’s Janna!”

She stared at the phone, as Marco, Roland, Jo, and Misao all looked at theirs.

Reading it, Roland’s face fell. “I’m just not going to say anything again, ever.”

Janna Banana said:  
 _Get 2 hillhurst, magnavores r here and dr00 is fighting them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to update this story more frequently, aiming for a bimonthly schedule. Stay tuned!


	20. Mock Battle

**|Mock Battle|**

The light dimmed, the ominous rumbling and bellowing from the organ faded into silence, and the house’s rumbling eased to stillness. His hands raised to shield his eyes, Drew lowered them and looked around to see if anything had changed. Aside from a few blown around boxes and packing materials for all the delivered electronics, there wasn’t a gleaming stainless steel bodied time machine anywhere in sight.

“What happened?” His voice trembled with every word. “Where’s the Delorean?”

Janna went to the living room window and looked out. “I don’t see it.”

Drew faced Flabber, the phasm grimacing at the squiggly lines, planets, stars, and sparkles that angrily throbbed just above his fingertips. “You were able to summon it, weren’t you?!”

Flabber looked up at Drew, in visible pain. “I put my all into that, kiddo! I dug down deep inside with my phasmtastic magic, but there was nothing to grab and pull out–not like with your powers!”

Drew tensed. “No… no way, after what you did before? After all that light and noise just now you can’t do it?”

Flabber shook his head, and looked about ready to cry. “I’m sorry! I don’t think I can summon anything from the movie like I did from the comic!”

The tension built, spreading through Drew’s body. His hands shook, his fingers curling and clenching into fists. “Why not?”

Flabber’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I wish I knew.”

Drew exploded. “Then what good are you if you can’t do something as simple as fix this?! They’re your powers, how can you not know how they work?!”

As Flabber quailed from him, Janna looked out the window and grew a little surprised. “Hey, man, maybe you should chill out?”

Drew whirled on her. “You shut up, this isn’t even any of your business!”

Janna turned to face Drew, a low-temperature scowl on her face. “You ever talk to me like that again, I’ll make you regret it. Also? Those Magnavore guys are outside _right now.”_

Drew rushed past Janna and shoved open the curtain to see for himself Jara, Noxic, and Typhus walking towards the house. “… Oh come on!”

He looked over at Janna and summoned his Beetle Bonder. “Call the others!”

“Whatever.” Janna pulled out her phone.

Scowling at her, Drew held up the Beetle Bonder. “Beetle Blast!”

Outside the house, Jara, Typhus and Noxic were almost to the front steps when the door was ripped open and the Blue Stingerborg emerged onto the porch, blue and black armor gleaming in the late morning sun as his hand drifted close to his holstered Input Magnum.

“All right, not a step further!” He shouted.

Noxic quickly pointed at him. “Oh hey, it’s one of the Beetleborgs!”

Jara tossed her short hair and huffed. “Just the one?”

Drew already hated this situation. They were a joke against Jara, and now it was three on one against his favor. _“I have to buy time.”_

He grabbed the Input Magnum, but didn’t draw. “One is more than enough for you creeps.”

Drew could _feel_ Jara rolling whatever counted for eyes behind her mask. “Please do not embarrass all of us with that nonsense.”

She gestured with an open hand to him. “You are a child playing at being a hero, adorned in armor too big for you. You have no proper stance so your form is atrocious, you attack like you are copying what you see on TV movies with a weapon that you have no idea how to hold. You don’t know how to guard, and you probably make a fist with your thumb tucked under your fingers.”

An unusually cool wind for Los Angeles blew across the Hillhurst vineyard in the long silence that followed.

If Noxic had any reason to breathe, it’d be to pensively suck in air through his mechanical teeth.

Janna, who had just finished sending her text message, whistled. “Dang.”

Typhus looked awkwardly between Jara and Drew, and let out a quiet “Oof.”

Drew, whatever spirit he had almost obliterated, managed to keep the façade up. “That… doesn’t change anything.”

“I did not expect it to, I am only stating facts.” Jara gestured to him. “Lucky for you, being such an abysmal fighter is good. I have no interest in wasting my time destroying you.”

She swept her hand over to Noxic. “He will do it, instead.”

Noxic pumped his fists. “Yeah, Typhus is gonna-!” He stopped, then whirled on Jara. “Whoa, hold on, _I’m_ gonna fight him?!”

Drew recoiled. “Wait, what?”

Typhus laughed. “Yeah, baby! We get to see Noxic put up his dukes!”

Noxic gestured to himself, his metal dreadlocks rattling loudly. “You’re really gonna let me at ‘em?!”

Jara made a sweeping gesture towards Drew. “Go crazy.”

Steam shot out of Noxic’s ears as he pumped his arms “All right! This is my moment!” He turned and pointed at Drew. “I was gonna go easy on ya back when I thought you and yer pals were robots, but now the gloves would be off if I had any! I hope you’re ready to go!”

 _“They can’t be serious…”_ Drew was struggling with this. “Hey! What’s this all about?!”

Jara chuckled. “Noxic is not exactly the best fighter. He is more your speed, this way you have a fair shot at winning, yes?”

Noxic was doing stretches, and limbering up. “Hey, I can fight!”

Jara’s tone was cheeky as she replied. “You spend so much time sending robots to fight for you, I am wondering if you even know how to make a fist.”

“I do!” He just learned how not to, at least.

Drew couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was Jara seriously delegating a weaker opponent to him… _out of pity?_

“I am only saying. You need practice, so go fight him while he’s weak and by himself here.”

Anger washed over Drew, and without a word of warning he pulled the Input Magnum and fired at Jara–who swept her cloak in front of her to scatter the beams. Another chuckle left the masked woman. “And there’s the bell.”

Noxic was more than ready. “Here goes!”

Raising his hands, he unleashed a storm of electricity that Drew quickly dove out of the way from, the bolts striking the porch and stairs of the mansion and sending sparks flying everywhere.

As Drew vaulted over the porch railing and landed, Noxic swept his arms and fired more electricity at him. “Take this, you mook!”

The bolts slashed across Drew’s armor, the resulting explosions shoving him back against the front of the porch. _“Is he just toying with me, or is he actually weak?”_

It hadn’t bowled him over like Jara had. In fact, his armor was barely reporting any damage. Pushing himself off the wall as more electricity showered him, he aimed right back at Noxic and fired, hitting him several times in the chest and sending him flat on his back. Jara and Typhus both managed to jump out of the way, and landed clear of the blast zone.

“Hey, Noxic! You okay?!” Typhus yelled.

“Ohhh… that hurt! That hurt!” Noxic said as he rolled over from side to side.

Drew aimed the Input Magnum at him. “Well there’s more where that came from!”

Before he could fire, Noxic shot up into the sitting position and threw a handful of knives into Drew’s chest. “Gotcha!”

The knives smacked into Drew’s armored chest and exploded, sending him hurtling through the air.

“AHHHH!” Landing hard, he rolled and looked up just in time to see Noxic on his feet and running at him, electricity wrapped around his fist.

At the last possible second he rolled out of the way, a roar of thunder going off where Noxic’s fist came down. Still prone on the ground, he hit 8-1-8 on the Input Magnum and fired a stream of flame at Noxic that scattered away before it connected.

When the flames stopped, Drew found Noxic hiding behind a red umbrella at the end of a long telescoping staff. “Heh, I can protect myself from those kinds of attacks, too. Pretty cool, right?”

Drew got up and looked at the weapon with slight disorientation. _“Noxic never had a weapon like that–no, don’t think about it! Focus!”_

Closing the umbrella and twirling the staff between his hands in a circle around him, Noxic leveled it on Drew and charged. Drew skipped back as Noxic thrust the weapon at him with a recklessness that reminded him of their fight with Jara. Unlike that fight, he was having an easier time avoiding Noxic’s attacks deflecting two with the back of his hands and forearms, before a third hit caught him in his stomach and staggered him.

Grunting, Drew raised the Input Magnum to fire another stream of flame, but Noxic knocked his aim downward with the staff, before twirling it around and slashing him upwards across his chest.

As Drew went stumbling back and Noxic chased him down, Typhus folded his arms and shook his head. “Hey, something about all this seems wrong, baby.”

Jara looked at him. “That being?”

“Hmmm… I know! We ain’t got popcorn for this!”

Jara barked out a laugh.

Running at Drew, Noxic swung on him as if his weapon were a halberd, the slow, wide swings even easier to dodge and letting Drew open up some distance. He fired off several shots back at Noxic, but the umbrella opened and the Magnavore was propelled above the beams. Closing it, he tumbled end over end and swung down–only to be blocked by the back of Drew’s arm.

“Haha, this is pretty cool, kid!” Noxic cheered before he pulled the umbrella back and threw several knives at Drew in the face to separate them.

Drew managed to escape the blades and their explosions, and with a frustrated yell snapped off several shots at Noxic that the Magnavore machine man deflected by spinning the staff in front of him. “Is this some kind of joke to you?!”

“Nah, not until there’s a…” Running at Drew underneath his Magnum shots, Noxic sent electricity down his arm and connected an uppercut to Drew’s chin, sending him flying towards the side of Hillhurst. “… Punchline!”

“Aw yeah, go Noxic!” Typhus cheered as the Blue Stingerborg hit the side of the house just below the roof, and fell to the ground.

“You are doing great! I take back half of the things I’ve said about you!” Jara added.

Noxic looked over at her. “Hey, hey! What about the other half?!”

Jara looked over at Drew, who was slowly getting back up again. “I’ll let you know when he’s done.”

Inside of the house, Flabber was chomping on his nails. “Oh man, Drew’s not doing too hot out there!”

Janna peeked out the window, and watched as Noxic ran up and punched Drew back into the ground just as he was getting to his knee. “Huh, can’t you do anything to help?”

Flabber thought about his options. “I could send out the guys, but…”

Both he and Janna looked over into the organ room, where Mums, Fangula, and Frankenbeans were having the time of their life watching Drew get slapped around by Noxic.

“Yeah!” Mums cheered. “Zap him again! Zap him again!”

Frankenbeans was on his feed, shaking his fists to the ceiling. “Smash him on head, make mean Beetle boy go ‘Ow!’”

“Just don’t cook him too well! I like my meal bloody rare!” Fangula quipped.

Janna looked back at Flabber. “Any _other_ options?”

Flabber thought about it. “There’s Ghoulum-”

“MEH,” bellowed the statue in the living room.

“How about you? You’re magical and junk, you could go out there and help.”

Flabber sighed. “No can do, I can’t use my magic to hurt anyone… even bad guys.”

“That’s kind of a cop-out, man.”

“What about you, can you help?”

Janna thought about going out to fight the Magnavores. “… I’m gonna opt out.”

“Now who’s copping out, hm?”

“Well, the only weapon I have is my razor sharp wit, and when it comes to actually fighting? I’m worse off than Drew.” With that in mind, she looked back out at him and grew thoughtful. “Hm.”

Drew blocked Noxic’s umbrella once more with the back of his arm, sparks coming off his armor, before he’s punched twice in the face then kicked in the chest. He stumbled back, his footing precarious, before Noxic aimed the end of the umbrella at his chest and fired bolts of energy. The shots hit, exploding across his armor and throwing him through the air to land face-down.

Noxic lowered his unoccupied hand, then scratched the side of his head, rustling his metallic locks. “Wow, he really does suck. Hey, kid, you dead yet?”

“If he’s not, give him a chance to get back up. He deserves that much,” Jara called.

Face down in the dirt again, wearing the armor of his favorite hero, fighting the enemy he brought into their world out of a stupid, childish wish. Drew laid there on the ground, heaving a sigh. _“Okay, now what?”_

He wasn’t doing anything to Noxic, and there was still Typhus and Jara just loitering on the sidelines, offering commentary like this was all a game. Nobody inside Hillhurst seemed to be helping, and he didn’t know where everyone else was, or if Janna even cared to send out a message.

 _“The only reason I’m still alive is because they’re literally playing with me. Like they have all day to mess around…”_ Clarity dawned on him. _“… Like they’re waiting for something.”_

Drew got up, and Noxic hopped from one foot to the other. “All right, you’re back on your feet! Ready to wrap this up?”

Drew holstered the Input Magnum, and raised his hands to make a T. “Time out!”

Noxic stopped. “Wait… huh? Time out?” He looked at Jara. “Can he call time out?”

Typhus looked at Jara as well. She didn’t particularly care at this moment, and shrugged her shoulders. “Do what you like.”

Turning to face Drew again, Noxic folded his arms. “Okay, what’s the time out about? You got something to say?”

Behind the mask, Drew was looking through the functionality of his suit, and found exactly what he was looking for. With the motion of his eyes, he brought up a text box and began hitting commands. “Actually, I do. You’re right, I’m not much of a fighter, this is my second day actually doing it.”

Noxic shook his head. “Jeez kid, if you’re this new then why are you here? Go home and read some comic books or whatever.”

“Believe me… I want to quit and go home,” he admitted as he began writing a message out with the same movement of his eyes. “I was not ready for this, I didn’t even think about the consequences of my actions. You guys are super strong and I’m not in any place to fight you.”

Janna peeked out the window. “What’s he doing?”

“I… don’t know…” Flabber admitted.

Jara, hearing this, let out a sigh. “Is there bathroom break between here and the point?”

Drew held up a hand to her. Behind the blue mask of the Stingerborg, his eyes flew back and forth across menus. “I have a point. As much as I don’t want to be here, and as much as this is my fault? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your fault?” Noxic asked.

“Yeah, my fault. I’m the reason you guys got pulled here into this world.”

Noxic stumbled back. “Wait, you’re the reason we’re here?!”

Typhus and Jara looked at each other in surprise, then at Drew. The latter brandished her blade. “You had better not be lying!”

“I’m not!” Drew looked at his hand. “I wanted to become a Beetleborg, so I didn’t have to be myself. I’m a loser kid, who can’t even be an example for his little sister because she’s better at everything I can do. All I really know are comic books, and the heroes in them… no more, no less. That’s all I have to bring to the table.”

Typhus looked at Jara. “Then he’ll tell us how he got us here, then?”

Jara agreed. “Yes. We definitely need him alive.” She looked at Noxic. “Enough! I will finish dealing with him! We don’t need to bring anything else back to Vexor, today.”

Drew grew alarmed. _“Vexor here, too?!”_ He calmed himself when a new text window popped up. “Wait!”

“Your time out is almost over!” Jara snapped back.

Drew agreed. “Yeah, that’s why I have one more thing to say: All I know are comic books, and the heroes in them. It’s taught me that times like this, where the bad guys are on the verge of winning… is the best part.”

Jara paused, before her danger senses suddenly went haywire. “Wait…!”

A shadow flitted over her, and she looked up to see Star falling towards her, the cheek marks on her face glowing as she held the wand above her head to swing down like a sword.

“THERMONUCLEAR BUTTERFLY BLAST!”

There was a flash, followed by the briefest stillness, before a rainbow-colored pillar of light shot skyward followed by a butterfly-filled explosion that threw Jara, Typhus, and Noxic into the air. Drew himself was swept away by the blast, but caught himself against the side of the house as the wave departed.

Landing unharmed on the scorched earth of ground zero, Star looked at Drew. “Hey! Are you all right? Thanks for the heads up!”

Drew was relieved. “I’m just glad I was able to sync my suit to my phone, and send that message.”

He and Star turned to face the three Magnavores, scattered across the smoldering vineyard. As they did, a large pink cloud descended from where Star had fallen from, Marco, the Red Strikerborg, and the Green Hunterborg dismounting from the front, while Dipper, Mabel, and Misao hopped off the back and headed inside the house.

Star reached up and petted the cloud. “Thanks, Cloudy!”

A green-eyed face appeared in the cloud and smiled. “It was my pleasure, Star!” It replied before vanishing.

Roland joined Drew’s side. “You all right, man?”

“Just my pride, and my armor… but all that’s temporary. These guys were waiting for you to get here, and I wasn’t about to let them do that for free.”

Jo was more critical. “What were you doing here, sneaking off to Hillhurst?”

Drew looked at her. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her tone was jagged and short. “You tried to undo the wish, didn’t you?”

Drew fully faced her. “I had to try something!”

Jo pointed at him. “No, you had to try to get out of your mess by probably doing something even stupider!”

“Well it doesn’t matter, it didn’t work, so guess what? You’ll be able to be a freaking Beetleborg until it kills us!”

Jo recoiled, surprised that Drew planted his feet and fired back.

Roland wasn’t having any of it. “Both of you stop, _right now!”_ He imposed himself between them, arms outstretched. “It can wait for after we deal with the Magnavores!”

Tense for a moment, Drew took a deep breath and fell back. “Right. Let’s do what we did before, and support Star and Marco.”

Inside the house, Dipper Flabber as Mabel and Misao went to Janna. “Okay, what happened?”

Janna, who was not a narc, looked over at Flabber, who was. “Well, Drew tried to wish for a time machine, so he could go back and undo the wish.”

Dipper froze in place, because he had a minor mental blackout from how inconceivably bad of an idea that was. Rather than erupt, he spoke in a calm, rigid voice. “And did it work?”

Flabber shrugged his shoulders. “Nope! Turns out I can’t summon things from copies of Back to the Future!”

Janna leaned against the windowsill, her expression desolate as she looked out towards the unattainable dream. “Imagine that, we can’t all get what we want from the magical wish-granting Phasm.”

Dipper was relieved to hear that nothing had gone terribly wrong. He could focus on more important things. “Is there anything you can do to help out?”

Janna looked back at him. “Not much. He can’t hurt anyone, even bad guys.”

“Why?” Dipper asked Flabber.

The phasm looked at his hands. “I made a promise not to hurt anyone with my powers.”

“Promised who?” Dipper asked.

“Doctor Hillhurst, the guy who asked me to keep an eye on the guys. I can’t go back on my word, he made me promise him on his deathbed.”

Dipper was impressed. “And you’ve kept it, to this day?”

“Well there was a forty year stretch where I had no choice, but… yeah! Doc Hillhurst said I was the only one who could do it, so I’ve been doing it with bells on!”

 _“Interesting, how did Doc Hillhurst manage to do that?”_ Dipper thought.

Mabel, who was at the window with Janna and Misao, looked over and interrupted his train of thought. “You’re gonna need to do something, the Magnavores are getting back up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round two against the Magnavores begins now!


	21. No Holds Barred

**|No Holds Barred|**

With an electronic groan, Noxic rebooted and found himself draped over one of the bushes in the middle of the vineyard. Doing a quick system check, he found numerous reports of severe damage, but it wasn’t something a few days in the shop couldn’t fix–if he had a shop, which was probably still in the Nightmare Realm… with all of his Combat Mecha.

“Aw man, I’m gonna have to start all over.” He slowly got up. “Hopefully little Macho won’t trash everything while I’m gone.”

He sat up. “Hey Typhus, you alive?”

Typhus, suspended upside down in another bush, squirmed. “Anybody get the number of that bomb truck?”

“It hit like a frickin’ B-52!” Noxic rose to his feet. “You good to go?”

Typhus tumbled out of the bush and got up, untangling his cape. “Yeah, I think so-”

“Shooting Star Explosion!” A trio of spinning stars smacked into Typhus and exploded. He crashed back through the bush.

“What the?!” Noxic faced Star, and saw Marco coming towards him. “Aw man…!”

“HEEEYAH!” Jumping as he yelled his kiai, Marco spun his entire body around and lashed out with a kick. It connected before he could block and sent his head spinning around on his neck.

Marco landed in a three-point crouch, next to Star. “I’ll take care of Noxic!”

Star held her wand to her chest and hopped in place. “I’ve got the meaty mutant guy, Typhoid.”

“Typhus,” Marco corrected, springing off after Noxic.

Star walked towards Typhus. “Right, we had a Typhoid outbreak in Mewni just before my birthday. _That’s_ why it was on my mind.”

The Beetleborgs rushed up the path to cut Typhus and Noxic off. Drew called over to them. “We’re going to soften them up for you!”

Star waved. “Okay~!”

Roland ran just ahead of Drew and Jo. “It still freaks me out that he can hit like that!”

Drew nodded back to his friend. “I know!” The three stopped at the row Noxic and Typhus’ were scrambling in, and readied their Input Magnums.

His head still spinning, Noxic caught it between his hands and made it stop… right in time to see Drew, Jo, and Roland. “Uh oh!”

“Dust these guys!” On Jo’s shout they opened fire, battering both Magnavores.

Noxic stumbled back and raised his arms to shield his head in vain from the beam assault. “Gah! Ow! Hey! I’m already! Ack! Smashed up!”

Grabbing him by the shoulder, Typhus yanked Noxic back and put himself between his battered buddy and the belligerent Beetleborgs. “I got you, baby!”

“Keep shooting!” Drew yelled, and the shower of fire increased. Even with chunks coming off his body in sprays of dark, oily fluid, Typhus laughed off the beams crashing against him, and charged straight into the barrage.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that!” He jumped and drew his left arm back, the red that covered his fist and forearm spreading up the rest of the otherwise green limb and causing it to swell with muscle. Roaring, Typhus came down and punched the ground in the middle of the Beetleborgs. The ground exploded beneath his fist, flinging all three of them away from the Magnavore monster.

Roland landed on his feet and slid backward, just outside the Hillhurst-high cloud of dust. “Holy crap…!”

A beeping alarm from his suit warned him just in time, and he dove and rolled out of the way of the charging Magnavore. “Whoa!”

Typhus turned around and bore down on him. “The only good beetle’s a squashed beetle, baby!”

In his haste to get at Roland, Typhus had forgotten about Star–who’d used a quick jumping spell to get above him.

“Rainbow Avalanche!” With her command, the wand spewed rays of rainbows that battered Typhus’ back and head, slowing him down enough for Roland to scramble clear of his path.

When he stopped, Star landed in front of him and spun around in place to build momentum. “Laser Beam Blast!”

She swung the wand up as the spell fired at the end of her spin, a solid laser of magical energy slashing up the front of Typhus’ body and making him stagger back.

The nasty scorch across his chest left by the beam didn’t matter much, as Typhus’ red eyes shone brightly. “Aw yeah, baby!”

The whale-like top of his head opened like a mouth, revealing the muzzle of a weapon and unleashed a barrage of energy. Star threw herself out of the way of the attack, first hopping, then flipping back to escape the bolts. Laughing, Typhus turned his body to keep shooting at her.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Star ran as fast as she could to stay ahead of the bolts. “Bulla Spiro!”

Before his fire could converge on her, her wand flashed and she jumped a final time–a bubble-shaped shield encasing her and bouncing Typhus’ fire.

Typhus stopped shooting. “Huh, neat trick!”

“Thanks-” Star was cut off by an avalanche of beams from Typhus. “HEY!”

Typhus laughed. “Let’s see how much it can take, baby!”

Star pressed her wand against the sphere, keeping it up. “I am not your baby!”

While Star endured Typhus’ barrage, Jo got back up on her feet and looked around. She had been thrown into the vineyard by the force of Typhus’ blow. “Dang it, wait ‘til I get my hands on him…”

The sound of clanging caught her attention, and Noxic’s shouting. “Ow! Hey! Hold still you little-!”

“HEEYAH!”

A bell-like ringing echoed from the force of Marco’s blow connecting with Noxic’s head.

“Aw come on!”

She looked over to find Noxic reeling from Marco, his head spinning again. The teen karate expert was staying light on his feet and swatting at the mechanical Magnavore with quick punches and backhands.

“Ack! Ow! I’m getting-!” Noxic managed to stop his head, only to get slapped again. “Really tired!” He swung at him, missed, and got kicked in the stomach. “Of you hittin’ me like this!”

Noxic swung the staff hard to win some separation from Marco. Gripping the weapon tighter, he thrust the umbrella end for the young man’s heart. “KNOCK IT OFF!”

Marco cleared the wild stab with an Olympian level high jump, ducked under the shaft of the weapon, and got in close. His first punch folded Noxic forward, and the rapidfire jabs that followed lifted him off his feet for a brief moment.

Ignoring the sting of his knuckles from pummeling a robot man, Marco jumped and spin-kicked him in the chest.

The blow knocked Noxic against the row of bushes they were tangled up in. Marco landed, and set a low fighting stance, his left foot and hand leading. “What’s the matter, tough guy? I’m just a regular ol’ human. No armor, no fancy weapons! You can’t handle any of this?!”

Noxic slumped back against the bush. “I don’t know…” He thrust his left hand out, pointing it at Marco. “Can you handle getting struck by lightning?!”

Before Marco could react, Jo stepped in front of him and took the full brunt of the attack. Unimpeded by the bolts arcing over her body, she drew a bead with her Input Magnum and fired a steady stream of bolts into Noxic, blasting him through the bush row.

Noxic tumbled back through the bushes and crouched. He twirled the staff around off his back to open the umbrella and deflect Jo’s barrage of fire.

Marco rested a hand on Jo’s shoulder. “Cover me and get your Beetle Battler ready, I’m gonna get rid of that umbrella!”

“Got it!” Jo called back and kept shooting.

Running ahead down the vineyard row, Marco turned and leaped over the bushes, landing right beside Noxic.

“No you don’t!” Noxic closed the umbrella and swung the staff. Marco split jumped over it.

“Hey!” He spun it to try to catch Marco, but his target backpedaled. “Hold still you meatbag!”

Steam pouring from his dreadlocks, Noxic stopped spinning the staff and thrust it for Marco’s chest. He missed, Marco spinning to avoid the strike and hook his arm around the shaft of the spear. With another twist, he yanked the weapon out of Noxic’s hands and kicked him in the chest, knocking him back.

“Hey, give that back!” Noxic yelled at Marco.

Marco refused, turning the other way and twirling the staff around over his head to clock Noxic across the face with the staff’s looped end–making his head spin again.

“Ahhhhh! Will you stop doing that?!” Noxic grabbed his head, stopping it facing the wrong way. He saw Jo, aiming her spinning Striker Plasmar at his back. “Oh this is gonna suck.”

“Yeah it is!” Marco dove out of the line of fire.

“TORNADO SPARK!” Jo called out, firing a solid, rotating quartet of beams from the Beetle Battler that struck Noxic in the back.

“GAAAAAAAAAAH!” Pushed by the beam, Noxic tried to twist to escape it, but quickly the ion energy melted and punched through his back and out his chest. “AHHHHHHHHH!”

Marco pushed himself up and looked back just in time to see the beam pass through Noxic. “Whoa.”

At the house, Flabber winced and looked away as Mabel and Misao gasped in shock at the brutality of Marco and Jo’s teamwork. “Oooh… that’s _gotta hurt.”_

Janna gripped the window sill, grinning. “Fricken _savage.”_

Groans of disappointment rose from the monsters watching the fight on TV.

“Come on, who doesn’t know how to keep their head on straight like that?!” Mums demanded.

Frankenbeans bellowed and slammed his fists on the couch. “Not fair! Not fair!”

Fangula sipped the bloody mary he was enjoying with the fight and sighed. “What happened to the good old days, where children were terrified of monsters and hid under their blankets?”

Dipper gave the monster peanut gallery a caustic look, then returned his attention to the fight. “They’re doing way better than before.”

Mabel agreed. “They’re making the dream work with their teamwork.”

Something about it had Dipper bothered, though. “They’re almost doing _too_ good.”

Stumbling from one foot to the other, Noxic stopped and turned his head completely back around. Turning around slowly, he pointed at Jo. “You… two things. One. I’m a robot, so this is only an inconvenience. Two. Do you have ANY idea how long it’s gonna take for me to repair this?!”

Noxic fell face-first to the ground, rendering his question rhetorical.

Marco walked over to Jo, and threw the staff a few rows away. “Good job.”

Jo let out a laugh. “No need to thank me, I’m just happy that I can finally do something!”

Both heard the sound of Typhus’ energy barrage and looked over. They found the remaining Magnavore battering Star’s shield with gunfire. Wide-eyed, Marco bolted ahead without another thought. “Hang on, Star!”

Unaware of the approaching cavalry, Typhus laughed and kept blasting away. “You can’t hide in that bubble all day, baby!”

“I can too, and don’t call me baby, that’s gross!” Star called back.

“Hey!” Drew shouted from behind him.

Typhus turned around, the gun in his head still shooting. “Yeah, what?!”

The energy bolts smacked into Drew, and he stumbled back. “Gah, he hits so hard…!”

The distraction gave Roland the opening he needed as he hit the keys on his Input Magnum. “0-1-0! Freezing Magnum!”

He squeezed the trigger, sending streams of super cold air that washed over Typhus and began to freeze him solid. “Got him!”:

Before he could change the modes on his Magnum and take advantage, the red onTyphus’s left arm spread up his shoulder and across to the other arm, and he flexed both with a roar, shattering the ice encasing him into a cloud of powdered snow. He lunged forward again, reaching Roland and delivering a punch that drove him straight into the ground. Sweeping around, he caught Drew with a lariat.

“Ugh!” Drew grunted, feeling that through the armor, before he was sent flying off Typhus’ arm. “AHHHH!”

“I got you!” Star called out as she fired a spell in front of her, conjuring a bed that Drew landed on. As he bounced off, she jumped onto it and used it to race in front of Typhus.

“Ha! Hope you can take a punch!” Typhus warned and tried to take Star’s head off with a right hook.

The far more nimble Princess flowed under it like a river around a boulder, and side stepped two more hard punches, the last one making her hair whip in the opposite direction from the air pressure. Still inside his reach, she jammed her wand in Typhus’s chest.

“CORGI SHOTGUN BLAST!” She called out, and Typhus was clobbered by a spread of magical corgis that blew him back from her.

Mabel practically thrust herself out the window when she saw that attack. “THAT IS THE BEST SPELL EVER-!”

Dipper and Misao hauled her back inside, before she could distract Star or get hit by a stray corgi.

With Typhus on the ropes, Star spun on one foot with the grace of a ballerina, and stopped to aim the wand at Noxic with both hands. “Super Mega Narwhal Blast!”

The wand did as commanded, spewing a stream of Narwhals. Facing the onslaught, the red spread from his arms down the coiled green organs protruding from Typhus’ chest, and he unleashed a storm of punches, deflecting the cascading cetaceans away before they reached him.

Star let out a gasp. “Whaaaat?!”

Grabbing a last one by its horn, he swung it around and threw it back at Star. “Catch this narwhal!”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Star dispelled it fast as she could.

Right through the puff of smoke the banished narwhal left behind, Typhus lunged to punch a hole through her stomach. “Now catch these hands!”

The Hunter Claw came down hard on the fist, stopping Typhus from connecting. Roland forced Typhus’s arm down, struggling against his might. “Star! Something that can hold him in place!”

Star’s mind raced before she pointed her wand at Typhus’s cape. “Surprise Cape Betrayal!”

Roland looked at her as she got the spell off. “That is not a real spell!”

“It is, I just made it up!” Star yelped back.

Roland did a double-take. “What?!”

His footing suddenly slipped and Typhus swung him off his feet into Star, sending them both tumbling away.

The moment they hit the ground, Typhus’ cape went rogue–wrapping around his arms and legs in a valiant effort to restrain him. “What the heck?! C’mon, this ain’t the time for static cling, baby!”

Star sat up and pointed at Typhus. “I told you!”

Roland looked from her to the struggling Magnavore. “How does your magic even work?”

Getting up, Drew shook the cobwebs out of his head and pulled the slide on the Input Magnum. “Okay, for future reference. Do not let Typhus _ever_ land a hit on you!” He hit the keypad. “3-0-5, Birdlime Magnum!”

He opened fire, the beams fired by the Input Magnum becoming sticky, white glue-like strands that splattered all over Typhus’ legs and arms, causing him to stick to his cape and to the ground. Spinning around, he howled at Drew, only to catch more of it across his mouth and face.

Over at the house, Dipper, Mabel, and Misao grimaced in disgust. Janna chuckled perversely.

Typhus struggled and managed to claw the gunk from the lower half of his face. “You kids are startin’ to tick me off with this silly gimmick crap!”

Drew entered 9-6-4 in the Input Magnum. “Like Jara said, I am an abysmal fighter. So rather than have a nice and fair fight where I’ll get stomped? I’ll fight as ugly and dirty as I need to win. 9-6-4, Crash Magnum.”

He pointed the Input Magnum at Typhus and squeezed the trigger. The stream of rapid-fire energy bolts from the gun showered the Magnavore, ripping through the Birdlime, and tearing chunks off his body. Five seconds of sustained fire later, Typhus dropped to one knee, viscera and ichor dripping from his wounded body.

Janna whistled. “Sad boy’s not playing around.”

Dipper tightened his fists and nodded. “C’mon, you got this!”

“Heh… heheheh…” Typhus’s baritone chuckle rumbled from his mouth as Drew lowered the Input Magnum. “When you put it like that, kid? You’re not a bad fighter at all.”

Drew quickly raised his weapon back up in surprise. Typhus’ injuries were closing up with every word he spoke. _“He can regenerate?!”_

“Anything goes in a real fight!” Typhus yelled as the mouth atop his head opened and a long white whale bone-shaped sword shot from it at Drew, hitting him in the chest and knocking him down.

Alarms blared in Drew’s ears, that one had done real damage. “Ugh, come on!”

Typhus got up and caught his sword as it returned to him. “Including hitting a guy while he’s down!”

He turned to point his sword at where Star and Roland had gone down, but a flash of red made him stop and face Jo and Marco.

“Marco, go make sure Star and Roland are okay.” Jo started towards Typhus. “I got this.”

Typhus laughed. _“You_ got this?”

Jo cracked her knuckles. “Just like I got your windup wuss friend!”

Typhus’s eyes flashed red, and his body shuddered in furious anticipation. “Then you’re gonna get it!”

He charged Jo, holding his sword out to his side. Raising it the second Jo was in range, he swung down to cut deep into Jo’s shoulder and through her chest.

Jo’s hand shot up and caught the weapon mid-swing–stopping it cold. The shockwave of the stopped blow traveled over her and kicked up waves of dust away from her feet.

Typhus tried to pull his weapon back, but Jo’s grip was immovable. “Dang, baby! You’re almost strong as me!”

Jo let out a sharp chuckle. “Thanks.”

She snapped the weapon in half. “And don’t call me ‘baby.’”

Star, back on her feet, cheered. “Tell him, sister!”

Jo punched Typhus’ jaw, leaning with all her strength into it, and in the next instant, he was gone. His body rocketed away from Jo, leaving a trail of spreading condensation rings that ended in an explosion of dirt and rock when his body impacted and took off the top of a hill.

The sound his body made hitting it took a full second to reach the house.

“Yowza!” Flabber exclaimed. “Did you see that?!”

Janna’s eyes trailed from Jo to the distant hill. _“That_ was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, and this fight’s already been one of those things I can die happy on.”

“Right?!” Mabel agreed. “Go Beetleborgs!”

“… What the fuck,” Dipper blurted out. Misao was speechless beside him.

Drew was having trouble understanding what he just saw. “… Jo?”

Jo lowered her fist and nodded in satisfaction. “So, the super strength works even with the Beetleborg Suit. Awesome!”

Drew rushed to her side. “Super strength? What are you talking about?”

Jo looked at him. “I have super strength now. I don’t need to be transformed to use it, either.”

Roland made his way over with Marco and Star, and caught the tail end of Jo’s reply. “Yeah, she completely destroyed Lars Vanderdud in the lunchroom with it.”

Drew did a double-take. “You got into a fight at school?!”

“Being _really_ _generous_ calling it a fight,” Star suggested.

Drew looked towards Hillhurst. “Dipper! Why does Jo have super strength?!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask Flabber about that. Gimme a second.” Dipper called back.

A pause followed, the group outside barely hearing some hurried back and forth, before Dipper answered. “Flabber says it might be leftover power from the wish that settled in you, to make up for what you didn’t ask for with the wish!”

“That makes sense!” Mabel called out.

Drew looked at himself. “Great, we have actual superpowers on top of these?”

Roland shook his head. “Maybe, I don’t have super strength.”

Drew hummed. “You probably can only activate it when you’re really emotionally triggered?”

“That also makes sense!” Mabel shouted.

“If that’s so, then where’s…?” Jo trailed off, and looked past Drew and Roland. “Oh great, we missed one.”

Drew and Roland looked back, Star and Marco following their gazes up the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo is cleaning up.


	22. Bullet With Butterfly Wings

**|Bullet With Butterfly Wings|**

Star dropping down on her with the Thermonuclear Butterfly Blast was the last thing Jara saw, before the flash of light and overwhelming force flung her into darkness. Inside of the instantaneous oblivion, Jara was a weightless entity in the void, adrift in her own jumbled memories, leaving her body to crawl back towards awakening.

“That girl…” She was taken off-guard by the dream-like echo of her voice. “That girl with the cheek marks… that magic…”

_“A Butterfly!”_

She ground her teeth. “What is a butterfly?”

_“A potent magic user, one that may be very useful to us.”_

“A potent magical user? Like you are describing a mild annoyance!” Her voice’s edge sharpened. “That spell, that overwhelming power… that was no small thing! It was like…!”

With another jolt, Jara was on her feet and alert, but with one look around, she saw she was no longer in the Hillhurst vineyard. “No… _oh no.”_

She recognized this place, the edge of a sheer cliff, as her body was without warning hammered by winds that swirled from every direction, ranging from bone-chilling cold to skin-boiling hot. The sky was black, illuminated by lightning that was frozen across the sky rather than flashing, and fire burned to the horizon in every direction.

Long, stretched out shadows streaked the illuminated ground, burned into it by the light, the shadows were cast by scorched statues–some humanoid, some monstrous, all frozen in action poses. The ones closest to the cliff were running towards it, hands raised as if wielding weapons, while others further back were either raising their limbs to guard, or turning to flee.

“No… no… no…!” Jara repeated slowly, as she looked further up the cliff.

On its very edge, a final figure stood with an upraised hand. From its back, six golden streaks of light spread across the sky. Jara stared at its face, seeing four points of light–its eyes, but also its cheeks–illuminating a cherubic smile before there was nothing but a golden light brighter than a hundred suns.

Jara snapped awake, feeling like a thunderclap had gone off in her head. She let out a half-growl, half-scream and surged onto her feet. She was still alive, scorched, but intact.

The thunderclap wasn’t in her head. Slooked for the source of the racket–a hilltop just blew up… and Typhus was lying in the center of its crater. “What?”

She looked over for Noxic and found him lying on the ground, a hole blown through his chest. “… How?”

She looked dead ahead and saw the Beetleborgs together with that annoying martial arts boy and… her.

The Butterfly. Blonde haired. Blue eyed. Cherub-faced.

Just. Like. Her. Nightmare.

Jara began walking towards the house. “I am _done.”_

Marco got ready. “Okay, she’s coming. What’s the plan?”

“Swarm her,” Drew looked at Roland and Jo. “We hit her like we did last time.”

Still walking towards them, Jara grabbed the pauldrons that held her cape up and unfastened them. The armor slipped off her shoulders, she grabbed them and whipped them into the air behind her revealing the bare-shouldered halter-topped armored leotard she wore underneath.

Roland suddenly had a very bad feeling. “Uh, _guys-”_

The pauldrons, her cape fluttering behind them, plummeted to the ground behind her. Their weight created an explosion of dirt and gravel that reached higher than Hillhurst.

Star, Marco, The Beetleborgs, and everyone watching in the house froze where they stood.

Roland swallowed. “I’ve watched enough DBZ to know what’s about to happen.”

So did Drew–he lunged forward, leaping in front of Star. The second he moved Jara appeared, her blade driven into his stomach, but not enough to pierce the armor. “Urgh!”

Jara didn’t give anyone the luxury to react, using her whole body to swing in a sharp circle, throwing everyone within reach of her through the air. Roland bounced off the corner of Hillhurst, Marco and Star went crashing back into the vineyard, Jo hurtled in the direction Typhus went, while Drew went straight towards the front window of the house.

“Get down!” Dipper yelled, dragging Janna down as Mabel pulled Misao away–leaving Flabber to be flattened by Drew crashing through the windows. Both went into the wall just below the stairs in a shower of shattered wood and glass.

With the hangtime of her flight, Jo recovered and twisted her body to land on her feet with a heavy crash. “You… bitch!”

She whipped the Input Magnum out and opened fire, the beams streaking past Jara.

Facing Jo, Jara effortlessly slapped away several more beams with the front and back of her hand, before her body flickered and disappeared. Her faint afterimages appeared in a zigzagged pattern approaching Jo before they vanished.

Two red lights slashed across Jo’s ches, but the Red Strikerborg didn’t fall–she planted her feet and turned around to point the Input Magnum in the dead center of Jara’s mask. Jara’s own weapon stopped, leveled right between the eyes of Jo’s helmet.

Jara hesitated. “What?!”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that crap again!” Jo snarled.

Both fired their weapons, the blasts sent them stumbling from each other. Recovering first. Jara recovered first and sliced through the smoke, the energy whip trailing from her weapon cutting across Jo’s side and arm.

Sparks showering from her armor, Jo performed a devastating uppercut with the Striker Plasmar, missing so narrowly that the arcs of plasma off the spinning weapon burnt lines into Jara’s mask.

Grabbing her arm, Jara threw Jo to the ground on her back. She dragged her in a circle around her, lifted her up, and threw her up the path. “Do not get in my way!”

Jara swung the weapon, the long energy whip extending and slashing across both the ground and Jo. The first pass launched her off the ground and onto her feet, and the second threw her onto her back.

“Stay there, play dead, actually die! I do not care!” Jara demanded. “I will be back for your worthless head later!”

Marco slowly got up, groaning. He looked down at himself, and was happy to see he wasn’t dismembered or disemboweled. “Ugh, okay. This has gotten bad.” He looked over at Star. “Hey, Star? You got something for this?”

“Sure… just lemme… ugh… wow, there’s two of you…” Star tried to get up, and fell over against Marco. “Two Marcos to help me… fight… uhh… my head hurts…”

“Oh no.” Well bad was now worse. He looked up and saw Jara storming towards them.

“Leave that Butterfly, so I can rip off her wings in peace,” Jara warned–before she blocked Roland’s attempt at tackling her with her weapon. Without looking at him, she struck him twice with the weapon before catching it between his helmet’s horns and swinging him down to the ground at her feet with a metallic crunch.

Marco calmly set Star down as she groaned in a half-hearted attempt to regain her bearings. She looked up at him, as he faced Jara with a stillness that made the air feel heavy.

“You touch her-” his voice was calm as the mirror smooth sea, “And I will rip your arm off and beat you to death with it.”

Star gasped, her heart skipping a beat from the weight of Marco’s presence.

Jara prepared to attack. “I will be on my guard, then.”

A beam cut across the front of her mask, and Jara jumped back. She looked up at Jo sprinting towards her.“We’re not finished!”

She had all day now, so why not? She nodded to Marco. “Please take this time to say your goodbyes. I should not be long.”

Her body flickering again, Jara disappeared and there was an explosion as her blade crashed against Jo’s blocking arm. Jo bodily shrugged her off and swung a kick at her, but Jara disappeared again, reappearing to attack Jo from her side. Her younger opponent was fast enough to use her arm to catch and block her thrust.

 _“This joke of a girl is different!”_ Jara broke away to avoid another kick to her stomach.

Jo’s mind raced as pursued her. _“She may be better than me, but if I leverage my strength I can hold her off!”_

The Striker Plasmar spun, and Jo used her strength to jump high above Jara. As gravity took hold, she aimed the weapon down at her and fired. “Let’s freaking go!”

Holding her wand, Marco walked Star into the house. Mabel rushed to them, fretting for the injured Princess. “Is Star okay? Is she bleeding anywhere?”

Marco looked from her to Star. “No blood, but she’s got a concussion, so she’s out for the fight.”

“I don’t have a concuss…” Star’s head drooped down as her words slurred. “… shun… I’m fine…”

Mabel took Star’s head in both hands. “Look right in my eyes, Star.” Star did as instructed, allowing Mabel to examine her pupils. “Okay, pupils are still the same size.”

She looked over at Misao, who was helping Dipper and Janna pull Drew off Flabber. “I need some ice, or frozen peas!”

“Jawohl! As soon as we get Drew and Flabber free!” Misao called back.

Dipper had one foot on the wall, as he tugged on Drew’s arm with Jana to dislodge him from the wall and the stairs behind it. “You are stuck _in there!”_

“That’s what he said,” Janna joked.

“Can you not?!” Dipper and Drew shouted together.

Mabel looked back at Marco. “We gotta get her lying down.”

Marco agreed and headed for the couch, occupied by the Hillhurst Hollywood Horror show, and got up. “Hey! Clear off the couch before I do the Monster Mash.”

Mums, Frankie, and Fangula got one look at Marco… and thought better of protesting against the guy who punched a robot and didn’t flinch. The three got up and headed out, with Mums calling back. “You’d better record that on the DVR! I want to see how it ends!”

“Spoiler warning–you’re going to be disappointed.” Marco called after them with a scowl, and helped Mabel pick up Star and bring her to the couch.

Star let out a weak laugh. “Wow, Marco… that was so cool…”

With great care, he picked her up and laid her down. “Just take it easy.”

“Keep her head and shoulders elevated,” Mabel warned, “And don’t let her fall asleep.”

“I know, I take first-aid every year to keep up to date,” Marco reassured her.

Mabel brightened. “You too? I go because Dipper likes to get involved in weird stuff and sometimes it tries to kill us.”

“You can’t be too prepared.” Marco slipped a large throw pillow under Star’s neck and shoulders, and she let out a sigh of relief. He looked at the TV, and watched Jara’s skill square up against Jo’s raw strength. “Jo seems to be doing fine.”

A badly overextended punch from Jo was brutally punished with a severe lashing from Jara, that sent her flying end over end.

Mabel winced. “Mostly.”

Luckily, before Jara could rush straight back at the house and butcher the lot of them, Roland came charging back in, Input Magnum blazing. Both spectators brightened. “Roland’s back up, too!”

Jara, not having any of Roland’s meddling, wrapped him up in a ribbon of energy, and swung him around. Marco looked back. “No, this isn’t working.”

Right at that moment, the snapping of boards heralded Dipper, Janna, and Misao pulling Drew free. Dipper helped him onto his feet. “Drew, you all right?”

“Yeah… maybe…? No…” Drew sighed. “… I’ll let you know when this is over…”

Dipper patted Drew on the shoulders. “You did your best, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s hard not to, we’re getting creamed,” Drew grumbled back. “Plus, I almost screwed up again. I came here to try to find a way to go back and stop myself from making the wish.”

Dipper shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Drew looked at Dipper, wary of his reassurance. “Really?”

“If you hadn’t been here, there’s no telling what they would’ve done,” Dipper reassured him. “So, don’t worry about anything that didn’t even happen to begin with.”

“Huh, I expected you to tear me a new one.”

“Well, I think you’ve had enough of that.” Dipper looked over at Flabber. “Hey, Flabber? We need to do something about these guys. Can you erect a forcefield? Summon zombies? Play the organ so loud that it drives them insane?”

Flabber, who was flat against the wall like he’d been painted onto it by Drew, raised a finger. “I could use some organs right now. Mine seem to be pulverized.”

He popped off the wall, good as new. “Ah, that’s better! Yeah, I can do all sorts of things, but Jara looks like she’s way too tough for anything I could stop her with.”

Drew watched Jo baseball slide under her friend-turned-projectile and fired the Striker Plasmar at Jara, actually managing to hit her. The attack only made Jara angrier, and she blasted Jo back in turn. Despite being completely outmatched, they were still slowing her down, and that gave him an idea. He turned around to face Dipper, Flabber, Misao, and Janna.

“Flabber, you couldn’t summon anything from the movies, but you can summon from the comics, right?”

Dipper looked at Drew. “What are you thinking?”

“The Beetle Battle Base. It has all the firepower we need to drive them off, and it’ll keep the Magnavores from coming here again.” Drew looked back at Flabber, hoping against hope. “Please tell me you can do that?”

Dipper answered that for him. “He should be able to.”

Flabber looked from Drew to Dipper. “I should?”

“I have a theory: as long as it comes from a Beetleborgs comic, you should be able to summon it just fine.”

Janna held one aloft. “Lucky for us, I happen to have one right here.”

“All right,” Drew faced Flabber. “Flabber! We need the Beetle Battle Base!”

Lighting up with excitement, and the opportunity to help, Flabber spun around and struck a pose. “You got it, kiddo!”

Magic began to swirl around him, and everyone quickly stepped back.

“Flib!” An organ note played.

“Flab!” Another joined in harmony.

Raising his hands, the final note joined in as he shouted. **_“FLABBER!”_ **

The phasm leveled his hands on the book. “Here we go, one BBB with an A+ Rating, coming up! **_PHASM FORCE!”_**

Outside, Jo got back up on her feet, Roland struggling to join her. Smoke was rising from her damaged armor, but if it was serious, the rumbling chuckle she let out while she rolled her shoulders didn’t give it away.

Jara cracked her energy whip, seething. “I had no more nerves for you to get on a long time ago. Why are you so stubbornly insisting on getting in my way?”

Jo laughed louder. “I wanna know why you haven't gotten us _out_ of your way, if it’s so important.”

Jara wanted to know that herself. _“They keep getting up! That armor of theirs keeps them going, it’s let them outlast Noxic and Typhus, and they keep stonewalling me.”_ She looked past them at the house. _“What in Cipher’s name is so powerful that it can grant amateurs this kind of power?”_

The sky grew dark again, and Jara looked up. “What?”

Like when she, Noxic, and Typhus first arrived the sky lit up–a pillar of light rising from the house and extending into the sky. The last time, it had dimmed then vanished in short order. This time it expanded, spreading from the house and washing over the entire vineyard surrounding the mansion.

Jara screamed from the blinding light, and shielded her eyes.

“What’s happening now?!” Jo yelled over the organ bellowing with the light.

The ground shook violently, Roland catching Jo before she could be topppled. “I think Flabber’s doing something…!”

He trailed off as the light faded. Behind his mask his eyes widened, and his mouth followed–curving into an open-mouthed smile.

Jo looked up as well, and gasped in joy. “No freaking way!”

Jara lowered her arm from her eyes, and looked at what had them so hyped up. She recoiled. “WHAT?!”

Towering ten stories higher than Hillhurst was a gleaming metal tower with a dish-shaped roof and complex set of antennas sticking from its front. Emblazoned across the front of the building was the symbol of the Beetleborgs, which flashed a swirling mix of blue, green, and red.

“The Beetle Battle Base!” Jo all but shrieked.

Roland laughed, the tension flooding out from his body at the sight of their salvation. “Yeah! Perfect timing, guys!”

Out on the hill, Typhus got up and looked over at the new building. “Where’d _that_ come from?”

Noxic, crawling towards Jara, looked up at the Beetle Battle Base. “Uh. That ain’t good.”

Jara took a few more steps back, her anger completely displaced by confusion. “Where did this come from?!”

“Hey, Jara!” She looked down at the house to see Dipper standing on the porch of the house., He raised his finger and pointed at her. “This is the only warning. Get off our property, get off our planet, and get out of our dimension! Or else you’ll get more of this!”

From behind the house, and directly in front of the Beetle Battle Base a cloud of dust rose up, before a blue and silver six-wheeled vehicle styled after a Rhinoceros Beetle came tearing around the house and raced straight towards Jara. At the controls, Drew targeted Jara with the beam cannons of the Turbo Stinger A.V., and opened fire.

“OH NOW THAT’S JUST A PILE OF HORSE MANURE-!” The heavy beam bolts crashing into Jara cut her ranting short, and several more tore up the ground around her.

“This is the last time you’re setting foot anywhere near Hillhurst, Jara!” Drew yelled out, and directed the A.V.’s long horn downward. Surging forward, its T-shaped end collided with her stomach.

With a hard yank on the controls, his A.V. launched Jara high into the sky. End over end she tumbled, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Take your friends, and don’t threaten us again!” He shouted over her enraged shrieking. “Blazing Stinger!”

The raised horn shone brightly, and fired a blue energy beam that struck the flailing Jara, setting off a large explosion that cast a cloud of smoke over the house.

Several long seconds followed, before Jara’s scorched black body crashed into the ground near Noxic and Typhus.

Noxic looked back and forth between his friends. “Hey… is… is she dead?”

Typhus stepped over to Jara, and nudged her with his foot. “Hey Jara, you all right?”

Jara took a deep, pain-wracked breath. “I want to go home now.”

Typhus looked to Noxic. “Hey, she’ll be all right.” He looked towards the menacing A.V., which was now turning towards them. “We’re outta here, baby!”

As with before, the Magnavore trio morphed into streams of flames, and rapidly escaped the area. The smoke slowly cleared over the vineyard, leaving only the afternoon sun in a cloudless sky to shine down on the victorious Beetleborgs and their allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with the close of the battle, lessons are learned about strengths... and weaknesses.


End file.
